


Shake Down The Stars

by lilithenaltum



Series: All This and Heaven, Too [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies), Thor: Ragnarok - Fandom
Genre: Bisexual Brunnhilde | Valkyrie (Marvel), Brunnhilde's Backstory, Canon Character of Color, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Genderfluid Loki (Marvel), Loki is in over his head, Loki taking care of Valkyrie, Panic Attacks, Past Relationship(s), Porn with Feelings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Prince Loki (Marvel), Protective Loki, Valkyrie Needs a Hug, Valkyrie taking care of Loki, pre Thor/Sif
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-02-01 22:57:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 139,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12714525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithenaltum/pseuds/lilithenaltum
Summary: "Is that a deal then?" He asks, licking his lips and tapping his fingers on his thigh. It's a nervous tic she's noticed he does when he can't figure out if he'll get something he wants.She thinks for a very long moment if this is truly what she wants, and thinks maybe, just maybe, having him at her beck and call wouldn't be too bad."It's a deal."Or, Loki and the Valkyrie make a deal and neither one of them are really aware of how much they needed it.





	1. i

There are a few things that Brunnhilde learns on the trip between the ruins of Asgard and Earth:

 

The first is, though she had told Thor she was tired of running from her past, she isn’t sure that she’s really ready to confront it yet. After the battle with Hela and the evacuation there hadn’t been much time at first to really sit and think about her life as a Valkyrie, but with a little nudging from Thor and some encouragement from Bruce, she’d prepared to dive head deep into her illustrious career and move on past the trauma of losing all her sisters in one blow. Unfortunately, every time she even gets close to talking about anything deeper than lighthearted stories or untrue urban myths, she shuts down and walks away, leaving her audience bewildered but sad.

 

The only person she can remotely handle being around after those episodes is, honestly, Loki.

 

That is one of the other things she learns; the God of Mischief and Prince of Asgard is surprisingly adept at reading her moods and gauging what she needs when she needs it. Initially she blames it on his (rude and invasive) glimpse inside her mind, but as the days pass and as she itches in her frustration to not fall back into old habits (drinking away your problems seemed to work for her before, why not now?) she finds she turns to his quiet, brooding presence when she needs the fortitude of understanding.

  
And that’s really what that is, in some ways. Her tragedy is vastly different from his but they both have suffered; sometimes from faults of their own, other times in duty and family and love and loss. Hilde doesn’t remember her birth mother and neither does Loki; her birth father was violent and cruel and so was his. And while she still thinks of him still as a spoiled, selfish little boy and he sees her as a gloating, self righteous martyr, there is a respect there that neither of them would ever dismiss. They are a lot more alike than either really wants to admit, but that is something that neither learns until later.

* * *

 Her hands are shaking, skin is on fire, and she isn’t sure why she’s so light headed but it’s embarrassing and all she wants is to be gone away from the makeshift throne room, away from Thor’s quiet pity and kind blue eyes. He doesn’t understand, not really, and she can’t let him down further than she’s sure she already has. She passes curious eyes in the corridors, desperate for her room or what she’s made the training room, somewhere she can lock the door and fight the rising panic smothering her.

 

Somehow she ends up in her room without any incident, but even the quiet and the cool can’t stave off what’s threatening to choke her. She squeezes her eyes shut and slides down the wall, a whine leaving her throat and she rocks, needing something to ground her, something to hold on to. This is worse than the first few years after the massacre; this is more terrifying and she’s angry at herself for being scared. She doesn’t notice the figure in her room, kneeling right before her until impossibly cool hands grip her chin and force her to stare into sharp green eyes. They’re unnervingly clear through the haze of her mind and she wants to look away, but he won’t let her.

 

“Valkyrie, look at me. _Look. At. Me._ ”

 

His voice, smooth as silk and deep, is calming and a rush of cool air caresses her heated skin; as she focuses on his voice and his eyes (those eyes know too much), she begins to slowly return to herself. Hilde vaguely acknowledges his thumbs rubbing soft circles in the skin of her jaw line, and she unwittingly leans into the touch, her breaths coming out less like frantic pants and more like the deep rushes of a once dammed river. It isn’t until her pulse stops hammering beneath her skin does she realize who’s touching her.

 

She lets out a stuttering, mocking laugh and scoots to the left, effectively tearing his hands from her face. “Of course it would be you.” She wipes her eyes furiously, constellations and bright spots erupting behind her lids and she presses, hard, hoping the pain will cover her humiliation.

 

“Were you expecting someone else, then?”

 

He is still kneeling though his body is taut with trepidation. He looks a cross between bored and skittish.

 

“I wasn’t expecting anything.”

 

Hilde moves to stand but her knees betray her and she stumbles, though she doesn’t fall. He’s right in front of her again, arms around her middle, and he looks almost surprised at his own reaction. Part of her wants to taunt him and goad him, but she’s so exhausted all she can do is sigh. “But since you’re here, help me to the bed.”

 

Loki has the good sense to keep his mouth shut, though she does see a hint of a smirk forming on his mouth. “It’s nice to know you’re getting back to yourself, then,” he quips, but there’s no barb behind his statement and Hilde almost smiles herself.

 

“Isn’t it? Would be quite the shame if I weren’t.” Loki says nothing to that, only drapes her arm over his shoulders and helps her get to the bed on the far side of the large room.

 

“Are they always that bad?” he asks softly.

 

Hilde blinks, and then frowns, her hands working in slow motion to shuck her boots off. She gets angry at her weakness and growls when the buckles don’t work for her like they should.

 

“That’s really none of your business.”

 

Loki raises a dark brow, glances at her boot and then back at her scowling face, and shrugs. “I’d say it is to a degree. I’m the asshole who triggered your memories, correct?” Hilde scoffs, and bends over carefully to try her boot again.

 

“You’re definitely an asshole, and that was definitely an asshole move. But I’m pretty sure whatever was lurking in the back of my mind would have popped up again eventually. You simply expedited it.” He hums then, and it sounds sad.

 

"It may not mean anything, but I _am_ sorry. I'd take it back if I could."

 

She shrugs. "You can't," she says, but not unkindly.

 

Even still, there is trouble with the boot. Trying to talk and undress is becoming near impossible. Her fingers are still refusing to cooperate and she nearly whines in frustration. The episodes damn near zap all her cognition and energy and it’s by the sheer will of her stubbornness that she hasn’t collapsed already. To make matters worse, she’s got a snarky trickster god standing beside her beside, looking at her with a combination of remorse and pity.

 

No, not pity.

 

 _Empathy_. She glances to his furrowed brow and softly pouting lips and he stares at her feet, his fingers wiggling almost as if he’s itching to-

 

With a dramatic sigh and a roll of his eyes for extra effect, Loki kneels again before she can protest, swoops the offending foot onto his bent knee, and begins swiftly unbuckling the clasps of her boot. Hilde opens her mouth to protest, but he’s pulling the thing off and her foot feels so much better now without the confines of the shoe that she bites the sharp reprimand back and stays silent. He doesn’t speak either, opting to lower the boot to the ground carefully before long fingers grasp her ankle to switch sides. But then he pauses and Hilde isn’t sure what’s going on.

 

She’s parting her lips to speak when his thumb rolls gingerly over the arch of her socked foot, and that doesn’t shut her up, it’s the look on his face that does. He’s serene, the lines on his pale face smoothed back and his brows relaxed. His mouth parts slightly, then warm air brushes past his lips as he presses the thumb deeply but gently into the sore arch, working up to the pad and toes and then down again towards her heel.

 

  
Hilde is afraid to move and she doesn’t even breathe at this point, though Loki’s breaths are steady and even. He seems to be concentrating on something, but his eyes shoot up to hers when she gives a sharp gasp. His thumb has hit a particularly tender spot.

 

“Does that hurt, sweetheart?” _Sweetheart?_

 

His voice is raspy, belying just how much this is affecting him. Hilde doesn’t speak, afraid that maybe she’s gone off the deep end this time and that she’s imagining this. She doesn’t even know why she’s letting him touch her like this (or her foot, really, he hasn’t really touched her that much); she doesn’t know why she isn’t stopping him and somewhere in the back of her foggy mind she thinks to herself that maybe this is his way of apologizing so she’ll allow it just this once, just this one time and god her feet really are killing her…

 

Delicious warmth spreads out from the heel of her foot and spreads all the way up her shins, along with a sparkling, tingly sensation that she’s never felt before. Loki’s thumbs are circling again, kneading the flesh of her aching foot with the expertise of someone who’s done this many times before. And then, before she realizes it, that warmth is gone, though the tingling lingers, and her foot is slowly placed down onto the cold floor.

 

“Shall I do the other?”

 

Hilde lets out the breath she’d been holding and sits stock still, the only movement in the room is the heaving of her chest. And before she can think too hard on it, before she can destroy the moment and ruin something she didn’t even know she wanted, she nods, once, and relaxes as Loki gets to work on her second boot.

 

By the time he’s done massaging the knots and kinks out of her other foot, Hilde is nearly asleep, lain across the comforter of her bed and her limbs askew. Loki has moved her boots out of the way and over to the crates she uses as a nightstand and is doing his best to tidy up the messy floor. Her armor is tucked into a box close to the small porthole window. Clothes she’d claimed from the cargo hold of the ship and her brown leathers are magically swooped up and folded; her sword is wrapped carefully and placed beside her bed. And then Loki shifts her legs, still covered in the soft grey leggings of her Valkyrie armor, into the mattress, tucking her into bed as if she were a child. Dimly, she thinks how she’s older than he and would have been the one to tuck him into bed had she ever been on Royal detail back in Asgard, but the thought is overcome by intoxicating warmth of her blankets and the desperate need to sleep.

 

“Good night, Valkyrie,” Loki says quietly, so much so that she isn’t sure she’s actually heard him or if she’s imagining it. Something in her stirs and, dancing on the edge of unconsciousness, she can’t stop herself from responding.

 

“Hilde.”

 

"Pardon?"

 

Hilde sighs and burrows further into the lush covers. _How'd they get so warm anyway?_ "My name is Brunnhilde," she murmurs. "Or Hilde, for short."

 

Loki pauses for several long seconds, and though she can't see it, she swears he smiles. He turns off the lamp on the floor beside her bed and, just before she slips under, Hilde feels the brush of his soft lips on her forehead.

 

“Sleep well, Hilde.”


	2. ii

He had a bottle of mead and a few books he wanted to revisit waiting for him, so Loki retired early. He undressed almost on autopilot, his mind racing with ‘whys’ and ‘what happens nows’.

 _Why_ had he done that?

The reaction to finding her slouched down on the floor, eyes wide and unseeing and her body shaking had been almost instinctual. Loki would never consider himself a beacon of charity and good hope, but he knew how she felt at that moment and letting her suffer through something so overpowering and terrifying alone was unthinkable. He knew what it was like to fight your way to a grounding place and had to do it alone enough that he wouldn’t have even wish that kind of pain on his worst enemy.

Well, maybe on his _worst_ enemy…but definitely not on an ally.

That’s what she was, wasn’t it? An ally, no matter how unlikely. Never mind the sins of his past and the bitterness he still felt towards his upbringing. Asgard was his home and its people did not deserve to die. And so he’d gone back when he could have kept drifting, and though the idea of glory had been appealing in the moment, it ultimately came down to what was right. He wouldn’t allow any of those innocents to die for the follies of his father, or even for the greed of his sister. And it had felt good then, and right, to do what he’d done, to actually fight alongside his brother and his friends and save lives.

Loki had to smile at the irony. Only a few years before and he’d had watched the place burn to the ground in absolute glee.

 _No…you wouldn’t have_ , a voice in his head said, the one that sounded a lot like his mother. Loki snorted. Of course he wouldn’t have, even then.

That little voice in his head was sometimes the only thing that kept the self loathing and remorse from eating him alive. There were days he couldn’t stand to sit in the mess hall with hundreds of Asgardians or Thor and Heimdall and Banner (or Hulk, depending on the day) and laugh and chat and talk as if he were some hero and they all weren’t drifting through space in search of a new home. He’d spent most of his life pretending and it was too exhausting now. On those days, he holed up in his rooms with his lunch and a bottle of wine, conjured up a book he knew by heart, and shut himself away from the bustling ship until everyone was asleep. Only then would he creep out of his rooms and make his way back to the mess where she would inevitably be, a bottle of the Grandmaster’s stash on her left and two glasses on her right. And he would sit, wordlessly, the only acknowledgement a slight nod and the tap of his finger on the bar when he drained his cup.

They’d been doing that for a few weeks now. Every few days eventually turned into every other day, and, for the past week, every night. He wasn’t complaining. Some nights they rarely talked, simply passed drink back and forth and soaked in the silence of the sleeping ship. But sometimes, they did talk and those were the nights Loki had to admit he enjoyed the most. He wasn’t sure why he liked her insults and teasing, or the fact that she liked punctuating a lot of her banter with barbs that would have made Stark sit down and think about his life, but he looked forward to when she really got going, when her brown skin flushed red from the liquor and her eyes glowed as she laughed.

He wouldn’t deny his attraction, of course. He’d been enraptured by her since the second he’d laid eyes on her. And touching her would never be something he’d decline, if given the chance. Occasionally, when the booze got to him and she had laughed at something funny he’d said, when she reached out and tugged on his hair or smacked him playfully, he could feel his body react in ways that, had she initiated any kind of want for him, would have resulted in her having her way with him. He’d even fantasized about it a few times, occasionally involving the chains she’d subdued him with on Sakaar or soft silken ties wrapped around her ankles and the headboard of his bed as he pleasured her with his mouth.

But what had happened tonight had been something different entirely. There wasn’t an ounce of carnality involved in the way he’d reached for her boots, for how he’d tenderly massaged he aches out of her dainty feet. Touching her had been mostly out of necessity at first; she needed something to root her to the now and the only thing he could think to do was grasp her face, stroking the skin gently to calm her down. And after, when she had struggled to walk, he had needed to help her to bed. But there wasn’t much he could do to excuse the foot massage. Tomorrow, when he wasn’t bleary and wound up the way he was right now, he could possibly pass it off as a fluke, as a reaction to seeing her in the state of panic she was in. Tomorrow, she probably wouldn’t even remember what happened. Right now, however, he was still reeling from their encounter and he couldn’t deny that had been nothing else but the desire to comfort her.

That scared him.

_But why does it scare you, Loki?_

* * *

 

He woke to an incessant thumping and it took a few moments for him to register that it was coming from his door. “Just a moment!” he barked, his mouth dry and sour with sleep and sour mead from the night before, and he shuffled out of bed ungracefully. Books he’d conjured made to fall from the bed but he whisked them away quickly, though he nearly slipped and fell on the sheets of his bed that spilled onto the slick floor. The thumping kept and Loki growled, quickly pulling his pants on and shrugging on his tunic. No one knocked at his door that annoyingly but Thor.

Grasping the handle, he narrowed his eyes in annoyance. “It can’t possibly be THAT urgent,” he said, greeted by the smiling face of his brother. But there was something off about Thor’s smile that made him pause for long enough that Thor slipped right into the still dark room.

“I assumed you’d be awake already, brother.”

Loki, sighed and shut the door behind him, making the bed with magic while he finished dressing. “Time doesn’t quite work the same way in space as it does on planet. I wake whenever I wake. What’s so pressing that you needed to bother me before breakfast?”

Thor chuckled and took a seat on the edge of Loki’s bed, something he knew bothered Loki. It was oddly reassuring, though; the reconciliation between the brothers had reforged a delicate and tentative bond between the two, one Loki was desperate to keep building. Little things, like Thor’s teasing and easy grin, were comforting.

“Well, I suppose it could have waited, but she’s still sleeping apparently, and I really don’t want her to catch me talking about her without her permission. She gets cagey like that, you know.”

“She?”

“Valkyrie, of course,” Thor said with a chuckle, though the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Loki scrubbed his face, all thoughts of the Valkyrie and last night’s…whatever that was flooding back to him.

 _Hilde_. She’d said last night that her name was Brunnhilde. He silently ran through the syllables in his head and found they whispered around his mind like a soft incantation. He wouldn't be telling Thor _that_ however, and kept that little morsel of information to himself.

“Yes, well, what about…Valkyrie? I’ve a feeling it’s not something good because you wouldn’t be coming to me if it were.” Thor shrugged but ignored the comment.

“She’s…not…adjusting well.”

“To what?” Loki shook his head and slipped on a pair of socks. He dug underneath the bed for his boots, grunting when one was a little further than he could reasonably reach. “She seems to get along well with all of you just fine. The people adore her. I hear many of the young women singing her praises and want to be just like her.”

“Well yes,” Thor concedes, and he leans forward, his voice dropping a bit. “That’s not exactly what I meant, however. We’ve talked about possibly reforming the Valkyrior and I want her to lead it-an elite team of fierce warrior women who defend the New Asgardia-“

“New Asgardia? I thought you were settling on something less on the nose.”

“That’s beside the point, brother." Thor purses his lips."The point I’m making is, whenever we talk about this, she seems ready to go for it, to agree. But then we get to talking more about her training and how the Valkyrior worked and she just…disappears.”

Loki stares at his brother for a second, reading the apparent confusion and worry in his face. Thor holds Hilde to a high esteem and seems quite fond of her, something that never really bothered Loki before, but now is making him feel…odd. “What do you mean by disappear?” He’s genuinely curious now if Thor knows something about her that he doesn’t, though Loki is the one who spends his evenings with Hilde, who looks forward to her showing up in the mess hall with neon blue liquor he can barely handle. For some reason it makes him irritable. But he pushes that down to get to the heart of what Thor is trying to say.

“I mean, she…just kind of zones out. You know. The way I used to when I was little and Sif would toss those awful spiders at me and I got them all off, but I could still feel them on me? That’s what she does, she’ll stop talking and then she’ll stare straight ahead and she leaves. And most of the time I tell her, ‘no, no, Val we don’t have to talk about this right now, it’s just a thought, we can sort it all out later when we settle’ but I think she’s trying to work through something and honestly I’m just worried.”

Hilde always came to the bar after meetings with Thor. Loki never asked what they talked about because he honestly had never cared, but now he’s wondering; if she was beginning to panic, did she seek him out for calm? Was the banter just a distraction? And what happened last night? Had she not made it to the mess in time? He’d asked her if the episodes happened often, and now he realizes that they-or the beginnings, at least-happened almost all the time. He scrubbed is face and sighed.

“So why are you telling me this? She’s definitely closer to you or Banner than she is to me. Hel, she’s closer to Heimdall, even. Apparently the two of them were old friends back before the massacre.”

He doesn’t mean for his voice to sound so petulant, but it does and he wishes he could keep his emotions under control when it comes to her. He’s been having a hard time figuring out how he feels whenever she comes up or is around; though that’s not something he’ll say out loud.

“She and I rarely talk about anything deeper than insulting each other and trying new drinks.”

That’s mostly a lie, especially when she’s the only person he actually can talk to about Frigga. He can’t even bring his mother up around Thor easily, and when he does it’s only in a passing mention. For whatever reason, he can trade stories about his mother with Hilde without any problem. He wonders why that is, as well.

“Perhaps,” Loki continues, and stands as he does, “you should try asking her yourself. I can’t give you any more insight than she’s willing to give because I don’t have it.”

Thor nods, clearly disappointed, but he gives his brother a cursory smile and makes his way to the door. “I figured it was worth a shot anyway," he said. "You know, I really would ask her but I’m honestly afraid she’d kick my ass if I tried prying.”

Loki chuckled at that and followed Thor, dimming the lights to his room and grabbing his jacket.

“Of course she would. Why else are you asking me about someone I don’t know?” The look Thor gives him is unreadable and for a moment, Loki is certain that he knows more than he’s letting on, but the expression is fleeting and he’s grinning again, ushering Loki out the door and towards the mess hall.

* * *

 

He doesn’t see Hilde again until much later. She’d skipped breakfast and also lunch. When she didn’t walk into the mess, Banner behind her laughing at another of her raunchy jokes or a trail of young Asgardians listening to her tell tales of her years on Sakaar, he became a bit worried. Part of him was nervous about seeking her out directly, but the other part of him needed to know that their rapport wasn’t affected any differently by last night. Even though he wasn’t sure if he should go so far as to call her a friend, he couldn’t pretend like he didn’t enjoy her company. And, if he were honest with himself, which seemed to be happening a lot more lately, he was worried about her.

 

He finds Hilde in the makeshift training room, going through forms against an invisible partner and completely oblivious to him standing outside the door. Most of the time, she locks the door when sparing, preferring to do so with a level of privacy but on some occasions she lets the kids watch, especially the girls, who crowd in the corner with hushed awed whispers and wide adoring eyes. Heimdall is usually her partner on those days, unless Thor is free or Banner is the Hulk. She never asks to spar with him, for whatever reason. He’s never asked why, and today is a good as time to.

 

“You wouldn’t happen to need a partner, would you?”

 

Hilde’s head jerks over to where he stands, leaning against the wall as casually as he can muster. She stares at him for a few seconds then blinks, uncharacteristically silent as she shifts out of her stance. “I’m almost done, actually,” she says, and her voice is hushed and raspy, as if she’d spent the entire night screaming. He wonders if maybe she had any nightmares after he left. He’s too scared to ask.

 

“Ah, but you seemed to have just been getting warmed up.” He moves from the wall and starts toward her, but she shoots him a look that makes him slow down, then stop.

 

“I said I’m done.” Her entire body is tensed and he swears he can hear her heart hammering in her chest from where he stands, halfway across the room. Loki raises his hands in supplication.

 

“No worries, perhaps next time? I am a formidable fighter, you know.” He wants her to snort, to grin then and question his physical prowess the way she usually does, but instead she only moves around him, headed for the door as if she’s escaping something. That hurts, more than it should.

 

“Hilde, please. Wait.”

 

Hand hovering over the door and back still turned, she lets out a shuddering breath and he knows now she’s been trying to avoid him all day. He also knows she remembers telling him her name, the massages, the episode and how he’d so carefully tucked her into her bed, as if she were something precious. He holds his breath, waiting for her to lash out at him but she never does. She turns without a word and walks right up to him, her head below his chin and he can see how tired she is from here.

 

“Thank you for last night,” she whispers, wringing her hands and she looks so vulnerable, so young, that he almost forgets she’s much older and wiser and smarter than he. Loki says nothing, though, simply reaches out and grasps her shoulders, his fingertips pressing into the muscle there. He doesn’t know why but he bends down, presses a kiss to the top of her head and another to her heated brow.

“My pleasure, sweetheart,” he murmurs. The air around them crackles with electricity. And then she looks up to meet his eyes and his breath catches. Her large, beautiful brown eyes are rimmed red and they’re so tired, so very _very_ tired, that in this moment all he wants to do is sweep her off her feet and take care of her.

He’d lock them in his room and feed her sweets and ply her with good tea and tell her some of his mother’s best stories. He’d sing to her, sweetly, as she rested her pretty head in his lap and he braids her beautiful hair. And if she needed him, needed his kisses and touches, _oh_ , if she needed his love making, it’s hers, all hers to use and take.

He’s terrified of the implications of those thoughts more than anything he’s ever been scared of. But right now, he can only stare at her lush lips and imagine how they would feel on his. If he bent down, just a bit more…

Hilde clears her throat then and Loki halts his imperceptible pull towards her mouth. He blinks then and she’s backing up a step and just like that, the spell is broken. Her voice is stronger and clearer when she speaks now, and for some reason he feels bereft. “But uh, yeah. Thanks for helping me, you know, with um…with everything.” She whispers the last bit as if she’s whispering a dangerous secret and Loki straightens and nods.

 

“Of course. Simply means you owe me a favor.”

 

Hilde shoves him back and gives a little chuckle, and Loki feels a little less lost. She’s returning back to her normal playful mood, at least a bit. “The only favor you’re getting is me not murdering you in your sleep. Keep you trap shut, will you? This is between us.”

 

“You wound me!” he responds, and lifts his hands in mock supplication. “But I’ll be sure to keep that little threat in mind. I promise your secret is safe with me.” She laughs, a beautiful trilling thing that sets him at ease more than he’s been in the last several hours and saunters to the door. Right before she leaves, she shoots him a look over her shoulder.

 

“Nightcap in the mess as always, yeah?”

 

He nods. “Good.”

 

He counts down the hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on tumblr! || lilithenaltum


	3. iii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this fic! It's my first venture in the Thor fandom and I'm really loving everyone on the Valki/Lokyrie ship.

The next few days passed in monotonous and mundane bliss. There were no episodes and no panic-Hilde spent her time as she’d been doing before. There was sparring to do, a kingdom to help rebuild, and though she did not consider herself a statesman, she was included in Thor’s Privy Council, something she wouldn’t really have expected but took very seriously. After all, New Asgard would need defenders on this new planet they were heading to and who better to defend than the Valkyrior? She would be the new leader of the fledgling group; over the last few weeks had began considering some of the young Asgardian women for Valkyrie status, a process that would take years if not decades, but what she was seeing was promising. Many of the young ladies had helped defend themselves against Hela’s onslaught of Asgard, and, according to Heimdall, were it not for their fearless defense of themselves, a lot of Asgardians would not have survived to evacuate.

 

She’d thought that Asgard had gone soft once Odin turned from warmongering, but there was still steel in the spines of many of its people. And she was rather looking forward to refining that steel, though it would need to wait.

 

Rebuilding the Valkyrior would require her to dwell on the past and she didn’t want to deal with the inevitable panic that would cause. Hilde hated how the simple thought of some of her sisters or of the battles they fought caused her to lock up in dread and mourning. It was even worse thinking _her_. She knew she had never really grieved for those lost as she should have; instead, she buried what feeling she had into drink and drifting and, after a time, work. When she finally found Sakaar, she’d thought she could stay there forever, that the past would never need come back to haunt her. But then Asgard had fallen to her doorstep and here she was, playing confidante to its King and helping to protect and guide its children. Most of that had to do with her admiration and respect for Thor. He was a good and compassionate man, and she counted him as a close friend. It was for Thor that she’d even tried unburying her past, and it was for his faith in her and her abilities that she would keep trying.

 

But today was not one of the days.

Today she simply was, sitting in her room with a whetstone and a soft cloth, cleaning her blade methodically as she’d done for years. It was second nature now, to the point she didn’t even need to concentrate on what she was doing. As such, she could also read while she worked. Reading wasn’t something she’d ever taken as a pastime; it was crucial and necessary and she only ever read out of obligation most days, but lately she’d been curious of the books that Loki had talked to her of during their nightcaps, and, last night, finally been able to borrow one.

 

“Are they all conjured?” she asked, and poured herself another shot. Loki was still nursing his glass of wine, partly because he’d been doing most of the talking that night and hadn’t had time between stories to sip.

 

“No…not all. Most are, of course, as the majority of my collection went up in dust with Asgard.” There was a brief flicker of grief on his face before his expression soothed and Hilde understood exactly how he felt. Asgard hadn’t been particularly kind to either of them but it was still home, and it still hurt to know it no longer was. “But,” he continued, “I managed to sneak a few out before I left. The most important.” Hilde had seen two large tomes in Thor’s room that she recognized as Asgard’s history and records books. She had a feeling those weren’t the only ones he’d managed to save, however.

 

“Of course,” she replied, a smile playing on her lips. “You’ll show me, right? I’m imagining you with an entire library of books and scrolls hidden somewhere, completely cloaked in Loki magic and wrapped in chamois for protection.” Loki chuckled and lifted his glass to his lips, taking a slow, elegant sip. Everything Loki did seemed deliberate and Hilde had to laugh at the comparison between he and his more brutish brother.

 

“You’d actually be right about the chamois. I didn’t have quite the time or the seidr to grab an entire library, though I wish I could have. Specifically Mother’s because her library was the most extensive. No, I only got to save a dozen. Not nearly enough, really, but some of those books are priceless and so…” He shrugged as he trailed off, his face turning a bit pink in embarrassment. Hilde propped her chin on her hand and leaned toward him, grinning at how bashful he was.

 

“Are you blushing over books, Lackey?” she teased and he laughed then, the humor reaching his eyes momentarily in a way she hadn’t ever seen. “There’s something naughty in those books, isn’t it? Hmm? You can tell your old pal Hilde, she won’t tell a soul.”

 

“Oh for fucks sake, Hilde. I _am_ naughty.” The way he said this made her bite her lip and raise a brow. “My very existence is naughtiness personified. I don’t need books of smut to…to…whatever. And stop laughing! This is serious business; this is the preservation of art and culture!” But Hilde couldn’t stop laughing, and, from the way he was looking, Loki didn’t really want her to. Instead, he waited with an exasperated look on his face until her guffaws quieted to soft giggles. He stood then, scooting the bar stool back and placed his near empty glass on the counter, then watched her for a long minute.

 

“What?” His gaze wasn’t lewd or scrutinizing but Hilde felt antsy underneath it, though she fought to hide the fact. “Am I _that_ pretty?” she said with a smirk, hoping that the light flirty undertone in her voice would ease the intensity of his brilliant green eyes. He said nothing at first, though she did catch him glancing at her mouth before he caught her eyes again.

 

“That’s without question,” he finally answered, and licked his lips briefly, stirring something faint in Hilde’s belly. “But no, I was simply, uh, thinking…assessing your person. You said I could trust you, yes?”

 

Hilde sat up and nodded. That had been a jest but she did mean it. Whether she could really trust him was something she was still navigating but he really seemed to have turned over a new leaf. Or, if this was all a ruse, it was a very good one. Hilde could read people; Loki wasn’t giving her any of the same shifty vibes as he had way back on Sakaar.

 

“So if I can trust you, and I’m sure I can, honestly…do you think I could trust you to keep one of my books safe?” Hilde opened her mouth to speak but could really only nod again.

 

“I…yes…though, what’s this all about? I’m not much of a reader.”

 

He shrugged. “You wanted to see what I squirreled away and…well. No one else really is curious about them and it's refreshing that you at least are. ” The unspoken reasoning behind his request was loud and clear, although Loki would be loathed to say it out loud. He wanted someone to share this with and she was the only person he felt wouldn’t dismiss how important the books were to him. Hilde smiled softly then and stood up beside Loki, knocking back one last shot and wiping her mouth.

“Well, your Highness, if you think I’m worthy of your precious collection, show me the way.”

One of those books, a beautiful leather bound storybook of fairy tales and legends, sat on the bed beside her knee while she polished, and, every so often, she carefully turned the pages. It was an old book, a first edition Loki had mentioned, and had initially belonged to the late Queen Frigga. There was a scrolling, elegant script in the top left corner of the title page with her name on it, but, to the right, directly across, was a little note that made Hilde's heart ache.

_For my sweet Loki, on his tenth name day._

_May all your stories become fairytales and all your dreams come true._

_Love, Mother._

Loki hadn’t said anything when handing her the book. He simply watched as she assessed the binding, the jewels dotting the illustration on the cover, and the thickness of the tome. It was when she opened it had she understood why he needed her trust in seeing this collection. Frigga had gifted him every one of those twelve and this one was his most precious. It was, physically, all he had left of his mother besides an ornately decorated dagger and the gift of his magic, his seidr. Hilde wanted to cry and didn’t understand why.

No one else would really appreciate this the way he needed. But she’d try to.

Hilde finally finished her cleaning her sword and rewrapped it, then wiped her hands thoroughly, and with the most care she could muster, picked up the large book and continued to read.

“ _There was once a couple who had a son named Halvor…”_

* * *

 

That night is when Hilde has her worst nightmare.

She’s no stranger to bad dreams; the ones she had after the Fall were violent and terrifying. It took years before she drank enough to abate those, but even after Loki had reactivated her memories, the nightmares that crept back to her in the following weeks were tame by those standards. They were painful and aching and she woke in tears those mornings. But she could ground herself by digging her fingers into soft sheets, by listening to the soft hum of the ship’s engines. There was routine and duty and friends now to distract her from those dreams, so she could go on with her day, shaken but not deterred.

But when she wakes this time, there are no soft sheets, no plush pillows. When she wakes from underneath the bodies of her dead sisters, there is only a dark sky and driving rain and the ground beneath her trembles and shakes. She is alone now; the carnage of the fallen Valkyries is gone as if it never existed. There is only the rumble of the cracking ground and the rain, but when she looks, the rain drops stain her armor red.

Blood.

A cold, chilling horror sweeps over her and she turns to run. The land before her splits open before she can get much farther and then she is falling, fast and hard and there is no-where to land. She keeps falling and she is screaming but there is no one there to hear her because there is no one left. She is the only one and she is going to die and-

She wakes, again, but this time there are arms gripping her shoulders and someone is calling her name. Her throat aches, raw and on fire and her head hurts so badly she wants to slam it into the nearest wall, anything to stop the ache, anything to stop the sensation of falling. Oh, but she is so ill, and she retches, nothing coming up but bile and spit. It is a few long minutes before she sees she is truly awake, and that strong wiry arms are holding her shaking body tight. He feels so safe and warm she starts to cry, and finally she isn’t falling anymore. She’s in her bed and the ground is solid beneath her and there is a strong, warm voice talking to her in a hushed whisper.

Hilde opens her eyes slowly. The room is softly lit, and Thor and Bruce stand nervously and worriedly in the doorway. Thor doesn’t even have a shirt on and his patch is missing; Bruce is groggy in too long pajamas and a tank top. She sucks in much needed air and struggles free from the arms that hold her, arms she now realizes are Loki’s. The expression on his face is unreadable, and she realizes he’s shirtless as well, wearing a pair of soft silk sleeping pants, his hair uncharacteristically tied up.

All three of them are silent, and before Thor can open his mouth to speak, she’s croaking at them to leave. “Get out,” she says, her voice cold and sharp as metal. They can’t see her like this, her eyes puffy and red, and her nose running. They’ve already seen too much. Loki reaches out to touch her and she recoils. She doesn’t notice the way he winces. Thor tries again; daring to move into the room further but stops at Loki’s outstretched hand. He speaks anyway.

“Val…we heard you screaming, and-“

“Yes I know, now GET. OUT.” She’s heaving deep breaths into her chest because it’s all she can do to not burst into tears again. This is weakness. This is something no one ever needed to see of her, and it is raw and painful like nothing else. Bruce looks between the brothers and the Valkyrie, then pulls his friend back to the door. “Thor…we should…we should go, you know? Give her some space.” Thor frowns but his eyes are sad and it makes her angrier.

“GET THE FUCK OUT! NOW!”

And then she is crying again and she wants to rend this ship apart with everyone in it. “Go. Brother, now.” Loki’s voice is firm though not unkind and she is in his arms again before she can protest, though she no longer has the energy to do so. The door clicks softly behind Thor and Bruce and she is alone with Loki, the only sound her choking sobs.

They sit like this for long minutes before she stops crying. She looks up to see Loki's face is equal parts scared and worried, but he is steadfast in his hold on her and something twists in her gut, something warm and comforting. Her head still aches, she's thirsty, and she feels like a wrung out dishtowel, all her energy zapped the way it is after an episode. For a while, neither of them know what to say.

“I'm such an awful person,” she whispers, remorse for how she'd screamed at Thor and Bruce rushing through her. Loki snorts at that and she can see the inkling of a careful smile on his lips. He's trying to fight panic of his own, panic that is her fault. _I shouldn't have fallen apart like this, I shouldn't be so weak._

“He won't hold it against you. Neither will Banner.” God, she hopes so. To think, she may have pushed away people who have only tried to care about her! All because of a silly nightmare. It was more than that, though and she knew it but she kept telling herself it meant nothing.

Loki's hands are rubbing soothing lines down her back, so she leans in closer, inhales the scent of him and drinks in just how safe this feels. She should be ashamed, she thinks, that she is reliant on someone like him to pull her out of hell like that, but she hasn't the energy to. She's sure she'll be plenty mortified in the morning. Right now, she just wants to fall asleep again, too tired for anymore thoughts and hopefully, anymore nightmares.

“He'd understand, if you told him.”

Hilde blinks and wipes her face, not sure exactly what Loki is talking about. “Hm? Whadda mean?”

“Thor,” he says quietly. “He'll...understand. When I was a child I often had severe nightmares. Mother was usually the one who came to comfort me afterward, but sometimes Thor was there. His room was directly across from mine so he was closer.” He pauses for a beat, then shifts in the bed so that his knees are more comfortable. “Often, all I wanted was him to stay with me at night until I slept again. I thought if my big brother was there, nothing and no one could hurt me. And it worked sometimes. But the important thing was that he knew. He knew something was bothering me even if I couldn't talk about it. You should.”

“Since when were you such a therapist?” There is a little chuckle and Hilde feels just a little more grounded.

“I have my moments,” he says. Getting up from the bed, he picks up the bejeweled book she borrowed from her makeshift nightstand and sets it gently on the pillow beside hers. “Really, Hilde. Talk to him. I can guarantee you he isn't angry. He's worried and sad because he can't fix whatever is wrong and you won't talk about it.”

She mulls this over and lets out an exhausted sigh. “I've been _trying_ to talk about it. I don't know what else I can do or say...he knows, Loki, he understands something terrible happened. But this wasn't...this wasn't what that was about.” Loki tilts his head.

“Then what was it?”

She shudders, the image of blood drops like a rain torrent on her armor stark in her mind. “I don't know, and it scares me.”

She doesn't sleep again right away, though she is bone tired. Instead, she lies in bed alone for several more hours, after Loki has left, and reads from the book of fairy tales. There is a comfort in knowing that once, a small child with terrible nightmares had read this book and found some peace. It is only when the ship begins to stir for the new day does she finally drift off, the pages of the book open and the blankets of her bed tucked warmly around her.

* * *

 

Hilde sleeps till after lunch again, and even then she is exhausted. But she gets out of bed and freshens up, puts on something comfortable and non intimidating, and goes in search of Thor. If she didn't know any better, she'd think he'd been waiting on her.

She's right.

He smiles when he sees her and it's a gentle, caring one, which only makes her feel worse about how she yelled at him hours before. Before she can get a word out he is out of his chair and across the room to her, where he holds his arms out for a hug. She can't stop her grin, though she is somewhat embarrassed, and she walks into his welcoming arms in relief. They stay like this for a long moment, with Thor awkwardly patting her back and she is herself again. “All is forgiven?”She asks, and Thor frowns, shaking his head incredulously.

“There's nothing to forgive, my friend. You weren't yourself; I took no offense.” She sighs. “Are you sure?” He nods his assent and flashes her another brilliant, warm smile.

 

Even still, there's something she's wanted to know since she woke and collected her thoughts. “How did you even get to me?” Thor shrugs nonchalantly and rocks back on his heels, humor flashing in his eyes.

 

“We broke the door down.”

 

Hilde punches him on his shoulder and he yelps, though he is laughing.

 

“What was that for?!”

 

“Breaking into my room without my permission! And now I have to get that door fixed-”

 

“No, no my brother fixed it. It's fine. I saw this morning.” Hilde lets out a soft “oh” and Thor offers her a seat, then sits himself, taking a deep drink of ale he has on the grand table.

 

“But we had to get to you, Val. You understand that, right?” She nods her head.

 

“I...I do. And thank you. How did you hear me anyway? You're halfway on the other end of the ship?”

 

“Loki heard you screaming. He couldn't get your door open so he found me-”

 

“So you could break it down?” Thor gives her a thumbs up. “Why didn't he just magic his way in?”

 

Thor shrugs. “Haven't a clue. Probably wasn't thinking clearly, you know. You were really terrifying screaming like that. He was scared shitless.”

 

“Huh. I didn't realize I screamed loud enough to scare a god,” she quips, but Thor is quiet. He leans forward then and drums his fingers on the table.

 

“No... _you_ scared him. He couldn't get you to wake up for a long time and he kept calling for the hills or something, I don't know, but eventually it worked. My brother is already pale, you should have seen him when you finally came to.” Hilde has nothing to say to that and is mulling over the idea that something hurting her could scare Loki.

 

Loki doesn't even really like her that much, does he?

 

“Oh he does,” Thor says with a grin. “He won't own up to it but he does.”

 

“I said that aloud?”

 

“Yep. Now go see what he's doing. I'm sure he's anxious to know you're feeling better.”

 

Hilde stands to leave, pats Thor on the shoulder and gives him a soft smile, but before she walks out the door he calls to her. “Val? This is just a suggestion, but...maybe you should ask him for help.” She frowns.

 

“Loki? What could he do?”

 

Thor scratches his beard and for a second he looks a lot like Odin. “He would understand, at least. More than I would or Bruce or anyone else I think. But don't tell him I said that.” Hilde nods in thought and opens the door.

 

“Valkyrie's honor.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost to the good stuff! Hilde and Loki will be making their deal next chapter and we'll get some backstory on some of the Valkyrie sisters, especially Gunnr, Hilde's gf. 
> 
> come say hi on tumblr || lilithenaltum.tumblr.com


	4. iv

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hilde gets a name for what is going on with her and she and Loki finally make their deal.

Hilde took a detour on her way to Loki’s room to find Bruce and apologize to him as well. He was chatting with Heimdall over cake and punch, something she found incredibly adorable and funny, especially since she had never known Heimdall to have much of a sweet tooth. But the two men had hit it off rather well since the journey from Asgard, and spent most of their time talking and even training. Heimdall had offered to teach swordsmanship to Bruce so he’d be able to fight efficiently when he wasn’t in Hulk form. Apparently, the younger man had taken quite well to it.

“Oh, hey it’s Val!” Bruce said, a warm smile on his face, and he got up to rush to her, wringing his hands in that sweet nervous way he always did. Hilde opened her mouth to explain.

“Bruce, I need to apologize. I wasn’t myself last night. “

He shook his head, and placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently and reassuringly. “It’s fine, no problem. I mean, look. You see what happens to me when I freak out right? So don’t sweat it. We all do stuff like that sometimes, ya know?”

Hilde bit her lip and nodded, unable to form words at the moment. She wasn’t used to forgiveness and kindness like this, and though she had always had a good rapport with Bruce (even as the Hulk), she hadn’t really expected him to be so understanding.

“You shouldn’t ever feel bad about nightmares and panic attacks, Val, seriously, it’s something you can’t help-“

“Panic…attacks?” Hilde asked, confused at Bruce’s phrasing.

“Yeah, that’s uh…that’s what we call ‘em back home. It’s sometimes related to PTSD and if you’ve suffered through something traumatic or upsetting-“

“PT what?” Hilde hated to keep interrupting him but Bruce seemed to know something that she didn’t about the episodes that drained her and exhausted her.

“Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I mean, I can explain more about it later if you want, but really it’s something that can happen when you go through a rough event…like what happened when you, um..”

She nodded in understanding, holding her hand up to stop him from continuing. Her skin was prickling already at the thought of talking about the Fall. But at least she had a word and a name for what she was dealing with and that was an improvement, no matter how small. “We’ll have to get together tomorrow then, after breakfast, yeah? If you don’t mind, of course.”

“Of course I don’t mind, Val,” Bruce said reassuringly, and turned to Heimdall who was quietly observing their conversation. “We’ll have to hook after lunch, then, Heim.”

“Of course, of course,” Heimdall said. “Take all the time you need.” He then turned his attention to Hilde. “But are you feeling better, my dear?” His deep voice is warm and his golden eyes kind but observant. She wanted then to lie and say she was just fine, but if anyone could read her it was he. Hilde opted for an abbreviated version instead.

“I’m…exhausted. Tired. I could sleep for another few days, straight even. I don’t really know why it was that bad… but it was.”

Heimdall hummed his understanding, clasping his hands behind his back. “I’m sure if you needed a few days to recuperate, His Majesty would not hesitate to grant you that request. And, while I know you feel that working is the way to get through anything, sometimes even the best of us need rest.” Hilde thought about the suggestion for a long moment then tucked it into the back of her mind for later. Thor would grant her any time she needed to just do nothing and keep to herself if she wanted it, but she didn’t want to abuse his kindness any more than she already had.

“If it…gets worse…” she began, and both men shared a look, nodding in assent.

“If it gets worse, you let us all know and we’ll make sure everything works out, alright?” Bruce said. Heimdall smiled softly in agreement.

* * *

 

Hilde stayed behind to talk with them both for a few more minutes and then left to find Loki. It wasn’t dinner time yet and he was usually in one of the quieter parts of the ship doing bookkeeping and inventory. No one else had wanted the job of keeping up with all the supplies they needed; it was a lot of work to provide for the displaced people and food lists and fuel and toiletries was some of the more grueling work to be done. But, for whatever reason, Loki had actually volunteered for the task and he had been rather adept at it. The younger Odinson had a great head for numbers and was quite the organizer, as well as a diplomatic negotiator.

Their first stop, less than a week after taking off, had been a little desperate. They had nothing to barter with but the few weapons left behind by the Grandmaster and Loki’s own charm; he had managed to procure a promissory note for all the supplies they needed at that moon with only the good word of the crown of Asgard as collateral. And so far, he was able to ration foodstuffs and potable water efficiently enough that they wouldn’t have to stop at the next trading post for two months. That was perfect timing because it would be at the least another month and a half before supplies became scarce.

The supply room was empty, though, when Hilde peeked her head in. Everything was as clean and organized as it usually was, and she saw no sight of the ledger, so Loki hadn’t merely stepped away from the desk he did his bookkeeping from for a break. In fact, it looked as though he hadn’t been this way in a few days as a light layer of dust had settled on the desk and chair. Loki was a stickler for neatness and cleanliness; that desk would have been polished had he been in today.

Well, that only meant he was in his room, or he was in the training room.

She started her way to both, though she was stopped by several people-some of the girls she had started training wanted to chat and she even ran into Korg, who took at least 20 minutes chit chatting about mostly nothing. But it was nice to talk to them all; it felt normal. And her mood had improved tenfold by the time she finally got to the training room…which was empty.

Hilde was a little frustrated at this point, but that could only mean he was in his room. She was less than a yard away from his door before she met him around the corner of the corridor, his wet hair in a bun on top of his head and a towel slung over his shoulder. The casual tunic he wore was cut in a low v, offset by the loose linen pants that skimmed the tops of his slippered feet. The look was oddly becoming of him.

She greets him with a wave and a smile and he slows to meet her. “I swear I’ve been looking for you for an hour. Two, tops.”

“Really?” he responded, a smirk playing on his lips. “I’m flattered.”

Hilde scoffs and gestures to his outfit. “It’s a little late for a shower, isn’t it?”

He shrugged. “I just woke up, actually, so…”

That was odd. Loki was usually up with the earliest of them, unless he’d drank too much the night before. And they hadn’t had a nightcap last night, unless of course, he’d drank alone. For whatever reason, the idea that he would irked her.

“Laziness isn’t becoming of you, honestly. I like it better when you’re running around the ship like the world’s most important man.”

He laughed. “You just like me anyway,” he drawls and Hilde felt her pulse stutter a beat. Loki spent most of their time together flirting with her; nothing he’d really said before had any effect on her besides a good laugh. But before she could dwell on the thought, he moved closer toward and waved his hand over the handle of his door. It swung open softly, and Loki motioned inside. “Would you like to come in? I’d much rather discuss the virtues of sleeping late in private.”

* * *

 

Though she’d been in his room twice before, there was something different about this time. She took a seat at one of the plush seats set on the far end by his armoire and poured herself a glass of his good brandy. Most of the furniture in his room was scraps from the cargo hold of the ship, relics of whatever luxuries the Grandmaster had on hand whenever he took this ship off planet. Anything else had been used as bunks for the Asgardians and when they ran out materials to work, they’d all salvaged what they could from the scrap yards and trash heaps of the trading moon they’d stopped on.

Somehow, Loki, Korg and Thor had turned broken wooden pallets and old rubber tires into useable bunk beds and dining tables. Most of the people worked together to help build the furniture, with others using the newly acquired food stock to feed the hard working makeshift carpenters.

That had been one of the more rewarding days, and was actually rather fun when she looked back on it. It was also when her opinion of Loki had begun to change. In the weeks after, he went from annoying, self centered jerkass to only somewhat annoying, hard working and selfless not-that-much of a jerkass. The Asgardians had all been rightly cautious of their new King’s younger brother, but after he worked so diligently to secure them food and water as well as clothes and beds, their opinion of him also changed. It wasn’t so unusual now to hear mentions of “the Prince” instead of “his Majesty’s brother”. He was working hard to show he deserved the title Prince of Asgard.

Lost in her own mind, Hilde didn’t notice that the Prince was seated beside her in his other plush chair, watching her intently. “Penny for your thoughts, Hilde?” he said quietly and she startled a bit, the glass of half empty brandy threatening to spill.

“A what?”

“It’s an expression on Earth. You were in your own little world just now. I’ve been talking for five minutes.”

“I…I’m sorry?”

Loki shook his head and leaned toward her, his elbow on the small end table he’d stuck between the chairs. “You needn’t apologize. You have every reason to be distracted.”

Hilde swallowed the rest of her brandy, and then promptly went to pour herself another. She knew she’d need to address last night soon, and her intention in finding Loki had been to ask for his help anyway, but…she almost didn’t want to get into the nitty gritty of whatever was wrong with her. It was all she’d thought about lately and she was so tired. But Loki had been so understanding and she had to at least let him know what she’d found out today.

“Yeah, about that. I um…Bruce told me I have some kind of PTSD thing going on. And it triggers the episodes. He calls them ‘panic attacks’.”

“A suitable name, really. That’s exactly what they always felt like to me. An attack.”

Hilde blinked. “You’ve had them too?” Loki nodded and stretched his long legs out before him, slumping a bit in the seat with a weary look on his face.

“Have I ever…and alone, even, locked in a cold cell with chains on my wrists and broken ribs. There’s nothing more helpless than feeling like you’re going to die with no way to stop it or no one to help you.”

“Is that why…” _Why you’ve been helping me?_

“Partially, yes.”

Hilde is silent then, and stares at her empty glass in contemplation. When Thor had said Loki would understand he’d truly meant it. She wondered then how many times he’d had to suffer through an attack by himself, surrounded by enemies or people who cared nothing for him. How’d he manage to keep himself from completely falling to pieces, then? What had he done to get through those attacks when he didn’t have cool hands and a soft voice to bring him back to himself? She wanted to ask him everything, but right now, what stuck out in her mind the most was how he’d even known she needed help to start with.

“I still don’t really understand why you were the one who helped me both times. How’d you even know?”

Loki takes in a breath; he seems to be mulling over his words carefully. He does this a lot when he’s explaining something he doesn’t know how to express easily. He sits still for a long time before he speaks and when he does, Hilde doesn’t know what to say.

“I could feel you.”

“You could… _what_?”

“I could feel you panicking, I could feel how distressed you were… it was as if I were in your head again only we weren’t anywhere close enough for me to be able to see your thoughts. I was in the storeroom when it happened and all I felt was this rising dread, like something was going to swallow me whole and somehow I knew it was you. I felt the same thing last night, only…this time it was so intense I couldn’t think straight.”

“Which is why you couldn’t open my door and had to get Thor.”

He nodded. “The seidr wasn’t working, my brain wasn’t even working. I just knew I needed to get to you. I woke Thor up and he grabbed Banner along the way-“

“Just in case he couldn’t either,” Hilde finished.

“Yes. Just in case. You see, I had to get to you as soon as possible. I was terrified you wouldn’t be alright when I opened that door and you were screaming so loud and…” He trails off and clears his throat; the breaths he takes are shuddering and quick.

“Loki…” She wants to tell him that that’s what he gets for invading her mind in the first place; she wants to tease and poke at him like she usually does because that’s normal and this is too raw and too intense. But he speaks and she can’t believe what she’s hearing.

“Hilde, you must realize by now that I’m quite fond of you, yes?”

 _That_ knocks the wind out of her. She can’t even find the words to respond to that, but she doesn’t have to. Loki moved out his seat and he crouched down before hers, imploring her to meet his gaze. She remembered to breathe then, and dared to look at him, the crinkles beside his eyes deepening as he really looked into hers. “I’ve been thinking,” he says, and his voice is small and quiet, she’s never heard him sound so vulnerable. “Maybe…I could help you, when that happens. I don’t know how to stop them; I can’t even stop my own, but I want…I _need_ to help you.”

“How? You can’t keep running to my door when I’m panicking. I can’t expect you to be there when I’m having a nightmare or when I can’t remember who I am for being so scared.” _I have to do this myself, I have to be strong enough to handle it alone._

Loki shakes his head. “Oh but you can, you can. You see…I’m offering…well. Whatever you need.”

“Why?” This makes no sense. This isn’t like him, not the Loki from Thor’s stories or the sly and closed off man she’s known. She wonders what he’s getting out of this and as if he knows what she’s thinking (he probably does) he continues.

“Don’t get me wrong, it helps me too. I’m not saying I’m offering this for purely selfless reasons, but...I do want to help you. And I can, if you’ll allow me, of course. ” He is entirely sincere in this and it translates through how he looks at her.

Hilde pushes forward from the chair and Loki stands, stepping back to allow her some room. She doesn’t want to push him away, but she doesn’t want to let him too close. She’s afraid at how this could backfire. What does he even mean by ‘whatever you need’? She asks him as much.

“Well…whatever means…whatever. _What-ev-er._ ”

Loki purses his lips and Hilde knows then what he has in mind. It shouldn’t surprise her but it does. She sees how he looks at her (how everyone looks at her, really) but she’s always thought he was too distant to ever want to act on it. She wonders if she should be upset that he’s never acted on his interest or flattered it’s always been there. She decides to throw out the hypotheticals instead and gauge just how far whatever goes.

“Alright, so...if I need to talk, in the middle of the night and you’re dead to the world asleep…you’ll wake up and talk to me?”

Loki nods. “I’ll even come to you.”

“And if I wanted you to bring me breakfast in bed the next morning…that’s something you’d do without complaining?” He smiles at this.

“With pleasure. I’ll even eat with you, if you wish.”

His eyes are gleaming now in the low light of his bedroom and Hilde presses further, pacing as she talks.

“That’s great, honestly I…hm. Well, in that case, once breakfast is done, before we head to our respective duties, would you braid my hair for me?” She thinks his eyes sparkle even more.

“Oh yes, and scalp massages as well. Whatever you wish, Hilde.”

“Make my bed? Clean my armor? Read me a bedtime story?”

“ _Anything_.”

Hilde thinks he’s made his point but she has to know and she keeps going. Perversely, she wonders how he’ll react to this request, whether he’ll own up to his desire or try and deny it for propriety’s sake. She finds she desperately wants it to be the former. Girding every bit of Valkyrie courage she can muster she walks up to where he stands, tilts her head and eyes him deliberately, biting her bottom lip as she does so.

Ah! She catches him staring at her mouth now so she has the ball in her court.

“If, and you realize it may never quite come to this but you did say whatever-“

“I meant whatever.”

“Mmmhm, alright, so if you truly meant whatever…what if I needed you? What if I want more than a massage or maid service that day? What if I wanted…” And now she’s faltering. This was going so well before, she had this; she was supposed to make _him_ stutter and shake.

But he’s so close to her now, and before she can pick back up her sentence, he grips her hips, his fingers digging into the flesh of them, and he pulls her flush against her. She has to tilt her head back to look at him and good god, she forgot he was so tall, or that his body-slender like it is-is a powerhouse of taut, lean muscle. He feels like a man and smells like one, and his eyes are so dark now, more black than green. She can see his pulse thump under the skin of his neck from here and she’s suddenly very hot.

“What if you wanted what?” he purrs. He leaves the question lingering in the air then bends so that their lips are mere inches away. “Tell me Brunnhilde,” he continues, caressing the syllables of her name with his tongue, “what you want. Do you want me to kiss you? Touch you? Taste and tease and devour you? Would you like it if I let you tie me down and take me inside you? Ride me hard and fast until you’re breathless and sweating? Or would you rather I pin you to my bed and ravish you? Give you _every_ inch of me and pleasure you for hours, until you're shaking?”

Hilde hasn’t even drawn a breath by this point. Blood rushes to her ears and cheeks and lower and all she wants to do right now is climb him like a tree. His mouth is so, so close and if she stands on her tip toes, she could kiss him. She wonders how he tastes, if his lips feel as good as she imagines. His body is warm and hard against her and she’s aware, then, of how much he wants all of that too. The evidence is pressed right up against her.

Loki dips his head then, until his lips ghost across hers. “Is that what you want? _Because it can be done._ ”

Then he kisses her, and Hilde stops thinking of anything but how good this is. His hands grip her harder, so she knows there will be marks later, and he pushes his hips into hers, dragging a moan from her throat. He swallows it with another hungry kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth and drags his hands up from her hips around her back, until one is gripping her neck gently. She can’t get enough of him, and she wraps her arms around his shoulders; her body is aching now with need, a fire running through her veins so that she lifts one foot from the floor and wraps her leg around his waist. Loki uses one hand to grasp her chin and pulls away and Hilde whimpers. She knows her eyes must be glazed over and her lips feel red and raw. He runs his thumb over the bottom lip and lets out a sigh.

“I said whatever you wanted”, he punctuates, and his voice is so thick with want that it makes her head spin. “That means anything. And if you want me, all you need do is _ask_.” He steps away then and goes back to his decanter of brandy as if he hadn’t just tilted her world upside down. Hilde wants to be angry but she’s still reeling at his touch, at his kiss. And honestly, if she says yes to this she can have that and more whenever and however she wants. He says nothing while she thinks. He only watches her and sips slowly, his eyes hooded and his lips bruised from their kiss. Finally, she walks slowly to stand right in front of him, and holds his gaze.

"No one else will know about this, correct?”

“Our secret.”

“And uh, if I need to stop at anytime…”

“You simply say when.”

She nods then, draws a breath, and holds out her hand to shake. He sets the glass of brandy on the table and clasps her hand between his larger one. She hopes to god that her palms aren’t clammy.

"Is that a deal then?" He asks, licking his lips and tapping his fingers on his thigh. It's a nervous tic she's noticed he does when he can't figure out if he'll get something he wants.

She thinks for a very long moment if this is truly what she wants, and thinks maybe, just maybe, having him at her beck and call wouldn't be too bad.

"It's a deal." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so no smut THIS chapter, but the next; I wanted to include it but the chapter was getting too long. But I'll make up for the delay, I promise!
> 
> come say hi on tumblr! I love to chat. :)
> 
> lilithenaltum.tumblr.com


	5. v

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So...” she began, effectively snapping him from his musings, “are you up for your first assignment?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There be smut in these hills.

“ _It's a deal.”_

 

Loki could feel relief surge all the way through him. He hadn't planned on what to do if she declined his offer; he had only banked on her acceptance and wasn't prepared to be embarrassed if she said no. Besides, he was giving her access to all his time and attention; what woman, Valkyrie or no, wouldn't want that?

 

Perhaps that was his ego speaking.

 

Grinning, Loki shook Hilde's hand firmly to seal the deal they'd just made. Her hands were calloused but warm and her grip was strong. Distantly, he wondered just what he'd gotten himself into. At the same time, he was quite looking forward to her idea of _whatever_ , something he was loathe to readily admit to anyone but her. He'd been honest when he told her that he was fond of her, because he was. Hilde was one of the most intriguing and complex people he'd ever met. She was rash, brusque, fearless and reckless with no regard to the feelings of most people and had an utter lack of propriety. But she was also incredibly selfless and kind, gracious and warm; he'd watched her with the young Asgardian women and saw that they were her soft spot. She was never cruel nor cold with them, even when she had to be hard, and the adoration they felt for the older woman was palpable. Thor had even joked that she had her own fan club.

 

Loki had snorted at the quip but secretly, he'd been considering himself one of those admirers. She didn't have to trust him; no one really did after all he'd done, and as much as it hurt, he was certain that even his brother still was wary of him. But somehow she allowed him to see her when she hurt, when she was vulnerable and scared. And that level of trust meant everything to him. His reasons for this deal weren't completely innocent, of course...but that didn't mean he would take advantage of that vulnerability. He only hoped she would honor him the same way.

 

“So...” she began, effectively snapping him from his musings, “are you up for your first assignment?”

 

“My first...assignment?” Already? Loki figured it would take her days to act, and was pleasantly surprised that she wanted him now.

 

“That's obviously what I said,” Hilde said with a smirk, and jerked him closer to her with the hand still holding his. “You never said we couldn't start right now...unless that's a problem.” Hilde wrapped her arm around his shoulders, tangling her hands in the hair at the nape of his neck, and Loki shuddered as her nails scratched softly at the skin there. “Is that a problem, your Highness?” Her eyes sparkled with mischief in the light of his room and she pressed her body against his deliberately, the swell of her breasts flush against his chest. He couldn't help but to let his eyes linger past her eyes to the long curve of her neck.

 

He let out a trembling breath and shook his head, a smile on his lips as he took in her full lips, ones he'd tasted only minutes before, and smoldering eyes. His hands gripped her hips again and he ground into them with his own, earning a slight hint of a moan from her. “Oh no, sweetheart. Never a problem. Ask me and it's yours.” She beamed at him and Loki felt his heart skip a beat, the brightness of her smile warming him in ways that he had never experienced. His body reacted to her sultry whisper, her warm breath on the shell of his ear, and the hand in his hair tugged sharply.

 

“Hmmm, surprise me, then. So long as I've got food and booze, I'm sure I'll be willing...anything else is up to you.” Loki nodded once and Hilde slowly unwound from his grasp, moving towards the door with a toss of her hair. She turned, meeting his eyes from over her shoulder, and his fingers were aching to touch her again, to kiss her deeply and thoroughly until she was breathless. “Just don't disappoint me, Lackey,” she purred, and she sauntered out to the hallway, shutting the door behind her.

 

Loki let out a sigh and sat on the edge of his bed, his mind turning and spinning with plans for the night. He was going to pull out all the stops for this so she'd have no reason to ever want to stop their arrangement. But he also knew, after tonight, that he'd be playing for keeps. Hilde was more than just bragging rights and a notch in his bedpost; no one else had ever made him challenged and captured him the way she had and he didn't want to ruin this by failing short of her expectations. In fact, he was going to exceed them. With a crack of his knuckles, Loki began to work.

 

* * *

 

 

Loki took a look around his room at his preparations and was proud of what he'd done. He had been careful with using the seidr as he hadn't want to drain his stamina, but what he hadn't found physically on the ship, he could cast as an illusion. And so, the small porthole beside the bed in his room was transformed into a large picture window. The starry expanse of space stretched out beside the bed for infinity, giving one the feeling of floating in the cosmos. His armoire was pushed to the farthest corner to make room for the bathtub he'd conjured, full of water he had painstakingly hauled from the bathrooms, and waiting to be heated to Hilde's preference. A spread of meats, cheeses, and fruit waited on the small end table as well as several bottles of fruit wines he had stashed a few weeks back. And to complete the transformation, orbs of soft, warm light drifted about the room like lighting bugs in a field.

 

It wasn't the luxury she deserved, but considering the circumstances, it wasn't bad at all.

 

Loki waited with a book and a cup of warm tea, glancing every so often towards his door and listening for her footsteps in the corridor. She hadn't given him any specific time, only a quick whisper of a “nightcap” as she brushed past him during dinner. And while that usually meant an hour or two after, it could be anytime between now and breakfast. Hilde did what she wanted and Loki expected nothing less. Fortunately, he didn't have to wait too much longer. She announced her presence with three sharp raps on his door and Loki whisked his book away as he rose to meet her. He was greeted a smile and bright brown eyes that stared up at him curiously.

 

“Were you waiting by the door?” she asked, and Loki scoffed as he let her in, his gaze following her as she took in the presentation. She had changed to a simpler, more comfortable outfit-a brushed cotton tunic in dusty blue and dark gabardine pants.

 

“Would it humor you if I said yes?”

 

She hummed and shrugged her shoulders, running her fingertips over the rim of the glamoured bathtub. The illusion shifted a bit under the weight of her hand. “I could have sworn this was real,” she murmured. “And how'd you know I'd want a bath? I never specified.”

 

“You told me to not disappoint you, Hilde,” he responded, and worked silently to cast a cloaking spell so that no one would hear anything coming from his room. Hilde had asked for discretion and that was what she would receive. That, and anything else she desired. He hands her a glass of rich plum wine and when she drinks deeply, she hums her approval at the quality. “The water isn't warm yet, but I wasn't sure how you liked it.”

 

She glanced lazily toward the tub. “Hot.”

 

“And so it shall be.” He waved his hand over the top of the water and it began to mist, the temperature rising quickly. “But first, I need to know something.” Hilde titled her head and watched him with interest.

 

“Like...”

 

This was something he had rehearsed but still was nervous about addressing. It was important, however. “I'm aware you're not some shrinking violet, new and fresh to the world, and that you've more than likely seen more of the universe than I have, but I just need to know if...um, well. Have you been inclined to take any contraceptive precautions?”

 

Hilde blinked, then pulled a face. “What do you think I am, an idiot?” She laughed then, but there was no malice behind it. “Of course I have. I have an implant, have had one for a while. Any other questions, then?”

 

Loki nodded and continued. “In optimal health as well, I'm assuming.”

 

She smirked. “As well as I can be from someone who drinks as much as I do. No bugs, Loki. And I won't even ask you, you look like a clean freak.”

 

He rolled his eyes and checked the temperature of the water. “I am, yes, but I'm not a prude.”

 

“I never said you were,” she said with a shrug. “Is my bath ready? I could use a good soak.”

 

He waved towards the tub dramatically and bowed low, earning a genuine laugh from Hilde. “My lady's bath is prepared...would she be requiring any help?” Hilde opened her mouth to say no, he noted, but had a split second change of heart.

 

“Actually, I could use some help getting out these clothes.”

 

He walked around the tub and stopped a step away from her, his fingers flexing and unflexing as he waited for the signal to begin undressing her. Hilde wet her lips and closed the short distance between him, then nodded for him to start. He took his time, starting with her tunic by slowly sliding his hands underneath the fabric and tracing a line from the small of her back to her shoulder blades. The shirt inched up little by little and as her soft brown skin was exposed, she broke out in gooseflesh. “Are you cold?” Loki asked quietly, and Hilde shook her head, lifting her arms to slide the tunic completely off. She wore a thin bra underneath and moved automatically to take it off but Loki batted her hands away.

 

“That's my job,” he murmured, and as he slid the straps from from her shoulders, he couldn't help leaning down to press a soft kiss on the indentation left there. “No clasps?” he whispered in her ear, and she shook her head again, lifting her arms silently so he could pull the bra off. Loki slid his thumbs beneath the band and pulled up, holding his breath as he watched her breasts fall free. He wanted to reach out and touch her so badly, to ghost his fingertips across the ripe flesh, but she had not given him permission and so he continued lower. Nimble hands unclasped the buttons and laces of her pants, tugged the waist band down, and slid them over her full hips. Hilde wiggled a bit to help and reached up to hold his shoulders so she could kick them over the loafers she wore.

 

“Do you want me to finish, Hilde?”

 

She leaned into him, sliding her hands along the expanse of his back and he felt like melting from the sheer heat of her skin.

 

“Yes,” she whispered, leaning up to press a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Hurry before my water gets cold.” He chuckled, gripping the back of her underwear to pull it down and off. Over her shoulder he caught a glimpse of the swell of her lush bottom, and he deliberately moved his hands higher to avoid gripping her ass. Hilde noticed this, turning her head so that she was looking him in his eyes.

“You're being an _awfully_ good boy, aren't you Loki?”

 

“I'm trying,” he whispered and she laughed, rich and warm from somewhere deep in her chest. That turned him on more than anything.

 

“You won't even _touch_ me unless I let you, will you?”

 

No,” he replied, his voice a rush of breath against her lips.

 

“Good,” she said, and then pulled away, leaving him aching and cold. “Now give me my bath.”

 

* * *

 

 

Loki decided, as he slid the fragrant bar of soap across Hilde's skin, that he could do this for her everyday. If she asked, he'd gladly prepare her water and cleanse her body with luxury soaps and creams, wash her long beautiful hair with expensive oils, and savor the sight of her enjoying herself. He was on his knees behind her, a pitcher of warm water in one hand and fingers full of her hair in the other. As the water sluiced through the soaked strands coated in neem oil, he massaged her head vigorously, his fingernails scratching little shapes and trails gently into her scalp. Hilde moaned in glee, and let out the softest sigh, heavy eyes drifting closed as she leaned into his touch. He wondered out loud if she'd ever been pampered like this before and she had gone quiet, the only sound the soft lapping of the water as she moved her legs back and forth in the tub.

 

“Once. A long time ago.”

 

He didn't expect her to continue and she didn't, but there was a beat before she changed the subject that made him think she might elaborate again. Instead, she plastered a grin on her face, took a sip of her wine, and leaned back in the tub, something she found incredibly fun to do because every time she did, the illusion would crackle and shift underneath her. “Could you make it invisible?” she asked, and Loki paused his motions shortly, tilting his head down to meet her now opened eyes.

 

“You mean the tub? Yes...I...but why would you want an invisible bath tub?”

 

She laughed, bringing a smile to Loki's own lips. He could listen to her laugh forever. “Because it'd be fun, duh. Or can you just not do it? You don't have to pretend that you-”

 

She's cut off when he very deliberately puts the pitcher down and swipes his hand quickly over the tub. It flickers and then disappears and there's nothing left but the reflection of sudsy water and Hilde's wet body. Loki thinks maybe this was a good idea, as he now has an unobstructed view of her naked.

 

“I can do whatever you want, sweetheart,” he says, picking the pitcher up again and motioning for her to tilt her head back again so he can rinse. He thinks he sees her scowl. “Though I do find the simplicity with which it takes me to humor you amusing.”

 

“Pfff,” Hilde scoffs, rolling her eyes as she lifts one long leg from the water. “I simply wanted to know if you had the skills. Would have been more amusing if you couldn't have pulled it off.” She shifts in the tub a bit and reaches behind her, grabbing his hands that are softly wringing the water from her hair. “I have another request. Are you done with that yet?”

 

Loki raises a brow but doesn't protest. “Yes, if you want me to be,” he says, and she chuckles.

 

“Well, I _want_ you to be. And this is all about what I want, right?” He nods, though he can't help the smirk that flickers onto his face.

 

“As least as much as I allow,” Loki responds flippantly, nearly laughing at the obstinate face she pulls. She splashes a little of the bathwater toward him that he deftly avoids “Whatever. Just...get in the tub with me. Water's still hot.”

 

“I already took a bath, Hilde.”

 

She turns in the tub all the way so that she's kneeling in the opposite direction and Loki watches with a dry mouth as water streams from her collar bones, down her breasts, and over the tips of her nipples. “I didn't ask you all of that,” she quips. “I simply said to get in the bath with me. Now.”

 

He's hesitant for reasons that would only make sense to himself, and as she sits there impatiently, he quickly list the pros and cons of giving her this over him. She would be seeing him naked, something he's usually not self conscious about but everything about Hilde makes him second guess himself. And the scar on his chest never healed the way he'd wanted; it's a jagged, pale ring of scar tissue that still aches sometimes and makes him less likely to walk around shirtless. He knows he's not built the same way Thor is; no one would ever accuse him of being a strapping paragon of testosterone and manliness, though he likes to think he is attractive in his own way. And there's the whole idea of baring his nakedness to this woman, this Valkyrie, this incredibly beautiful and self confident creature that is now holding her hand to him in the tub, her face softened as if she can read the doubts that are swirling through his mind.

 

_What if I'm not good enough?_

 

“C'mon, Loki,” she says and her voice is uncharacteristically tender and kind and it's almost painful that she can read him so well. “How else are you going to fuck me if you aren't naked?” He finds he wants to grin at that and so, with a dramatic sigh, he begins to undress.

 

“If my lady insists,” he says, toeing the loafers he wears off and wiggles his toes unconsciously on the cool floor. “Oh I do”, she purrs. “It's not fair I'm completely naked and you're still covered head to toe.”

 

“You won't tell anyone I'm doing this, right?” He works on the waistband of his pants, a simple untying of the knot that holds the lacing up all that is required. Though he feels as if he could trust her with seeing him bare, he isn't quite ready to show her the scar yet. He still needs a few moments.

 

“That you acquiesce to whatever I want _whenever_ I want? Of course not. I'm not cruel, Loki. I'm just enjoying having you as a subordinate.”

 

He sputters, pausing in his undressing and she is laughing yet again. “A subordinate? No quite, the contrary, my dear. I'm giving you control over me, I'm allowing you to boss me around. That means I have the upper hand. I can stop this when I want.” He's sure he's pouting but he doesn't care, only that she's leaning against the invisible edge, a deceivingly remorseful look on her face. But a smile still flirts about her mouth and there's a twinkle in her eyes that Loki finds endearing. Still, he must play his part of outraged God and Prince. “Oh don't look at me like that,” he mutters, but he resumes taking his clothes off.

 

“And I meant bathing with you. That's far too romantic for my reputation.” Hilde rolls eyes in response.

 

When he finally gets the tunic off, and he is only down to his underthings, he dares to look at her and gauge her reaction. She watches him curiously, her eyes barely glancing at the scars dotting the landscape of his torso, or how thin he's certain his legs and arms are. She seems to only be interested in one part of him and it's with trembling hands that he peels that last shred of clothing off. He's half hard already, and he's sure that gives him a bit of an advantage, but somehow (and maybe she's mocking him, he doesn't know) her eyes widen and her mouth opens just a bit.

 

“They're right about skinny guys,” she breathes, and then glances up to catch his gaze. Hilde runs her teeth along her bottom lip and reaches out her hand again, humming in admiration as he allows her to pull him closer towards her. “Why are you so worried about what you look like, Loki?” she asks. He gasps softly when she runs warm, wet hands over the expanse of his thighs, and her thumbs find the dip in his hips and press there firmly.

 

“Everyone isn't so assured as you, Hilde,” he responds, though his voice shakes and his thoughts are a muddled mess. Her hands slide higher still. She drags her nails through the thick curls surrounding his cock but never quite touches in favor of following the happy trail of black hair to his navel.

 

“Mmm, but I do like what I see. That must count for something.” It does, though he won't say that aloud explicitly. If she's satisfied, then he won't worry at any inadequacies he may have, real or imagined. “Besides, so long as it feels good, I don't really care. Now. Come get in the tub with me,” she implores and he does.

 

It is strange, in a way, to be bathing in an invisible tub but it _is_ fun, he has to agree. He rests against the back, his legs bent with Hilde between them and now she is washing him with the same bar of milled, fine soap that he ran across her skin earlier. He says nothing, content in closing his eyes and letting her bathe him. This isn't what he'd expected when he planned the bath, but it is wonderful in ways that he can not really articulate. Once she is done, and his skin is scrubbed clean and pink, she straddles his lap, caging him in with her arms on either side of the tub. “You can touch me, if you want,” she says with a smirk and then she leans in, kisses him thoroughly so that he thinks of nothing now but her skin and her body and how good she feels in his arms.

 

Hilde starts a trail of hot kisses, from his lips to his chin and against his neck. She sucks a hickey there, right underneath his pulse point and the hands he has on her hips grasp her tightly, pulling her slick body to his. He lets his hands wander with abandon now, and they stroke and feel as though they can not and never will get enough of this; the taut flesh of her thighs, the jiggle of her ass as she moves against him slightly. He grasps each cheek and pushes his hips up instinctively, seeking the heat of her and she bares her fangs, biting him hard on his collarbone.

 

Loki hisses, but the pain feels so good, and through the ache he feels his cock throb, his blood rush lower still until he is light headed and dizzy. Hilde pulls back just a bit to assess her handiwork and her grin is feral and wild and he has never seen anyone so beautiful and terrible. She is all he wants right now and so he palms one of her breasts with his large hands, the pad of his thumb circling her nipple so that she gasps and rocks against him. She groans even harder when he slides his fingers to her wet core. He avoids her clit initially, though she rocks her body sideways, chasing his touch and so he rewards her with a bit of pressure on the sensitive organ. The noises she makes drive him to stroke her harder and she is controlling his touches with her hips, sliding forward a bit so that he can press his fingers inside her. When he does, he pushes deep as he can, then curls them forward so that she actually moans now, high and breathy and beautifully.

 

Then Hilde pushes his fingers away so that he withdraws and she is touching him now, her small calloused hand gripping his hard cock tightly. Though it should hurt, he can't help but murmur for more. “What about what I want?” Hilde whispers, hot and sultry along the blooming hickey of his throat, and Loki sharply cries when she twists her wrist down, pulling up along the shaft of him, and squeezes at the head. It is an exquisite pain, and he never wants it to end. But he wants to be inside of her more. He wants to draw the same cry of pleasure from her own throat so he opens his eyes and grasps her face, threading his fingers into her still damp hair.

 

“This is all about what you want,” he rasps, bucking his hips once more so that she feels his desire. “All of _that_ is yours, you need only to take it. _Take me_.” He can feed her ego if it's what it takes for her to allow him the pleasure of stretching her open and filling her. And when he wraps one long hand about her throat, not pressing, only suggesting, she lowers down till his cock slides slick between her lower lips, ghosting over her entrance and gliding against her sensitive clit. Hilde lets her head tilt backward and exposes her neck to him, so that Loki sucks his own hickey into the skin there. A brand for a brand, a mark for a mark. It's only when he lets go does she line the head of him to meet her, and his whole body stills in anticipation. She wiggles a bit from side to side to fit him inside her and he helps by spreading the swollen lips down there, keeping his own hips still so that she takes him in at her own comfort and pace.

 

When she finally slides down, she does so slowly, her mouth open in a silent moan and her eyes closed tightly. Loki presses his heels into the bottom of the tub and pushes up to meet her, gentle and steady in his movements until she has taken all of him in and he can not think of anything else but how incredible this feels. “Hilde,” he breathes out in a rush, and he fights the urge to move. While she sits still and tense on top of him, he strokes the back of her neck soothingly until she looks at him glassy eyed. “It's been a while since I've had one of these,” she says, her voice hoarse and deep.

 

“A cock?” he asks, because he knows it'll make her laugh and she does, nodding as she finds her bearings.

 

“Mmmhm. At least, a real one...and not one this big,” she replies. There is a glint in her eyes that makes him want to kiss her and never stops so he pulls her head to his and nips at her bottom lip. Hilde drinks him in, all tongue and teeth and spit; he can taste the wine on her mouth still and he wants to swallow her whole. When he trails off from her mouth to her throat she tests her body and sits up, causing his cock to slide up and out of her just enough so she can slowly slide back down. Oh, but this is _everything_ and he is starved; one hand grasps her hip as he begins to move with her, and the other holds her neck still so that he may feast upon her breasts. When he sucks her pretty nipple into his mouth, hot and hungry, she keens then, eyes slipping closed, and moves faster. They move in tandem like this; she rides him without abandon and he pushes up to match her, so that she a blur of lust and heat against him.

 

Somehow, he rolls his hips up just in the right way so that she cries out and opens her eyes in a flutter of lashes. Her knees knock the sides of the tub and water splashes violently over the side.

 

“Loki!” Her voice is desperate and needy and it does things to him. She is at his mercy as much as he is . “I can't...oh, fuck, I...” A low moan cuts her off before she can finish what she's saying.

 

“Tell me, sweetheart,” he gasps. “What do you need?”

 

“Get me out of...this tub!” she finally manages, and in a flash he is standing, the tub disappearing as if it never existed, the water vanishing with it. She wraps her legs tight around him,desperate that he doesn't withdraw from her and Loki blindly stumbles to the bed. He turns just as he falls so that he is on his back and she is cradled to his chest, their bodies still joined. Hilde sits up, hands pressed to his chest and she begins to move again, this time fast and hard. “Oh, fuck me,” she cants, desperately reaching between them and strokes herself in time to his thrusts beneath her. He touches her every where he can and thrusts faster, harder, until she leans forward and grasps him close to her, her panting, shaking breaths loud in his ear. “Say my name,” she moans, and Loki complies happily.

 

“ _Brunhilde_.”

 

“Say it again!”

 

“ _Brun...hil...de_ ,” he growls, and suddenly she comes, clenching violently around his aching cock, her fingernails digging into the muscles of his shoulders till she draws blood. He doesn't recognize the pain, only knows that this feels good, and he follows her shortly after, crushing her in his embrace as he rides out his pleasure. His mind is blissfully blank, his body delightfully spent and though he still moves inside her, he relaxes his grip on her waist, pressing soft kisses to her chest and neck.

 

She says nothing for a long while. She simply lays on top of him, the both of them still joined though he has softened. For a while, he is simply content to lay this way, and the warmth and weight of her is addictive. He isn't sure if he wants to ever leave this bed now, and when his heart finally calms in his chest, she raises her head to meet his eyes. There is a grin on her face and her eyes gleam. Though her hair is a tangled, damp mess about her head and there are bite marks and bruises on her skin, she is radient and stunning and Loki cannot help cupping her cheek with his hand. “Are you getting soft on me, Lackey?” she teases and he feels a happy bubbling laugh rise from his chest.

 

“I'm catching my second wind.” 

 

Hilde stretches and then moves to the side of him and he almost groans at the lost of her heat around his cock. He lays prone on the bed, one arm above him and the other wraps around her waist as she settles into his side.

 

“We've got all night, right?”

 

Loki nods, drowsy and sated and warm again. “Mmm. As long as you want.”

 

“Good.” She settles down with her head in the crook of his arm and Loki begins to drift off then. It is a few minutes later, and right before he slips into sleep, that she shoots up from the bed.

 

“ _Fuck_ , I'm hungry! Where's the food?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come chat with me on tumblr || lilithenatum.tumblr.com


	6. vi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hilde and Loki bond a little more; Hilde begins the process of opening up about her past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut in the middle of the chapter, just a heads up.

“You mean to tell me you only slept with him that _one_ time?!”

 

Hilde sat crosslegged and naked in a pile of Loki's sheets and sucked salt from her fingertips as he detailed the few weeks he'd spent on Sakaar charming the Grandmaster.

 

“You say that as if you can't believe I could simply charm my way into his good graces,” Loki said with a huff. He was laid out on his side, facing her, with one arm tucked under his head and the other curled around her waist. The room had grown chilly since their bath and so Hilde hogged all the covers, though Loki hadn't complained at all. “I'm hot natured,” he'd said as he wrapped the sheets about her naked body. They were warm, but the hand he kept tucked in between the folds of the fabric and closest to her belly was even warmer. Hilde hadn't been this comfortable in a long time.

 

“I believe you could charm just about anyone, if you really wanted,” she confessed. “The trouble is, the Grandmaster has seen a lot of charmers in his day. That man is eons old, Loki. You couldn't possibly have given him the slip that long.”

 

Loki grinned, and there was something so endearing about it that Hilde found herself smiling back. “But I did. You see, it was mostly a game of wits and waiting and want. I led him to believe I wanted him more than he wanted me, and I let him play the tease as long as he was willing to pretend that he was. Truth be told, he'd wanted me the second he'd lain eyes on me. And I knew that. I used it to my advantage.”

 

Hilde laughed and grabbed more cheese from the tray that sat beside her. “Okay, okay, but once? One time wouldn't get you too far even if you were manipulating him like you say you were.”

 

“True. Which is why I had to keep the game going for as long as I could. If he had me, he'd get tired of me soon. That's the unfortunate truth about him...he bores easily. Even when it comes to me.”

 

“He never bored of me,” Hilde countered, and Loki drummed his fingertips against the sheet that covered her flesh. “You also never slept with him. And I'm more than certain he was sure you never would be interested, either.”

 

She frowned. “What makes you think that?” If anything, Hilde had spent the last couple of decades in a sort of flirty but out of reach back and forth with the Grandmaster. It had been amusing and honestly rather lucrative to her unexpected career; knowing when and how to work with him was a skill she'd spent years and years developing. And it reaped big benefits, including the nice apartment she'd had and the ability to charge higher than usual for her bounties. But he was right. The Grandmaster had never taken his flirtation further than little cheek kisses and amorous winks. She was interested in hearing what Loki thought about that.

 

“Did you ever take a man to your bed while on Sakaar?”

 

Hilde shrugged. “A couple, sure, though there hadn't been any recently. Mostly scrappers, though.” She paused, and chewed her cheese thoughtfully. “Are you saying he only ever saw me with women, so he assumed I wasn't into men?”

 

“I won't say he didn't. He had eyes everywhere on that planet, so if he wanted to track you he probably could have. I simply think that he didn't think he was your type. And so he buggered off about it.” Hilde stares at Loki quietly for a long moment and then chortles in amusement.

“It's entirely possible you're right about this,” she says. “I am,” he interjects, and she rolls her eyes. “But,” she continues,” that doesn't explain how you were so far up his ass with only one roll in the hay.”

 

“I said we'd only _slept_ together once.” Loki pushes up from his prone position and reaches across her lap to snag a few crackers and some lean meat. “I never said we'd only had sex for one round.” And as Hilde mouth opens, she catches him shaking in laughter, his green eyes twinkling in the dark of the room.

 

“Oh fuck you,” she grumbles, though she is thoroughly amused at the semantics.

 

“Do you want to?” he asks casually, and she licks her lips unconsciously at the thought. Loki follows the motion as he bites into a cracker slowly, and she feels her skin heat up under his gaze. “Again, I mean,” he clarifies, as if she didn't already understand what he'd meant.

 

“You're eating," she says and gestures toward the tray. "So am I.”

 

“So?”

 

“So...you probably don't want to fuck me while you're eating.” Loki shrugs and leans forward, pressing a kiss to her bare arm. Hilde can't help but shiver.

 

“I can't think of two things I'd rather do right now, actually,” he murmurs, and his lips cover a path along the smooth expanse of skin between her shoulder and neck. One hand covers her jaw and cheek and he greedily suckles at the tender flesh of her throat, moving his mouth in time with the turn of her head.

 

“Hmmm, you'll get crumbs in the bed,” she moans softly, and he chuckles at that, the sound of which makes her blood rush below and her breath stutter. “I already have crumbs in my bed, sweetheart,” he resumes his kisses. Most of her past lovers had never really had this kind of affect on her. Hilde was used to being in complete control of how and when and why anyone she took to bed had the reactions they did. It was quite another thing to react like a green girl whenever Loki touched her. Part of her wanted to be angry about it but his teeth nibbled at her bottom lip and she forgot to be upset.

 

It was something she was going to have to revisit later. Right now, though, all she wanted was his hands all over her. “Get these sheets off me,” she says against his mouth, but Loki kisses her first, and she opens up to him readily. It is a slow, sultry kiss, urgent in it's own way, but he refuses to rush it and Hilde is perfectly happy to just drink him in right now. He tastes like wine and a sandwich, she thinks in a haze, and it almost makes her giggle, but the hand that cups her cheek slides down to her neck and his thumb grazes her throat. There is a suggestion in the touch, one she is almost too scared to follow, and she freezes for a second so that he pulls back, bright eyed and panting.

 

“Are you alright?” he asks, genuine in his concern. She nods, and covers the hand on her neck with her own.

 

“This is just a little...different,” she confesses. Breath play and choking wasn't necessarily new to her, but she almost never was on the receiving end of any of it. And when she had been it had been long ago, back when she was-

 

She stopped that train of thought and swallowed. Thinking of then led to thoughts about _her_ and that wasn't what she was really in the mood for right now. Instead, she leans into Loki's touch, letting her breath out in one long, steady stream and shifts so that the sheets wrapped around her begin to fall away. “Don't worry about it,” she insists. Loki opens his mouth to protest, it seems, but he catches her eye and decides against it.

 

“Tell me what you need, then,” he whispers and Hilde pulls him back in close to kiss her again.

 

* * *

 

 

Honestly, when Loki had said he'd fuck her while eating, she'd really thought he'd been kidding.

 

And yet, there's something really hot about sitting astride him like this, cracker crumbs littering his sheets and cheese on his chest. It's also really, really funny and she can't help but laugh even as she rides him, slowly and deliberately. Loki has given her full control over his orgasm. She has been staving it off for nearly an hour, to the point he is a red faced, sweating mess underneath her and it turns her on so much she's almost ready to let him cum. Almost. She still has two crackers and half a slice of ham to feed him, and he's got to eat before he cums.

 

“Finish your food, Loki,” she purrs, pressing a cracker to his parted lips and he groans.

 

“Hilde, I...I can't,” he gasps, though he licks the salt from the cracker and allows her to push it into his mouth. He chews quickly and forces himself to swallow, his hands grasping her hips hard. She has not allowed him to move the entire time; he is only granted that one respite, in that he can touch her if he likes. But she is calling the shots on how she moves, and moves she does, though it is almost at a glacial pace most of the time. Hilde has the self control of a seasoned warrior but it's stretched and at it's breaking point now. Even so, she has to set guidelines or he'll think he can have his way simply because his dick feels so good. And god, does it ever. She's leaned forward just enough so that he presses right against her g spot and her own fingers make lazy, wet circles against her swollen clit as she pushes and pulls against him lazily.

 

“Hilde,” he pants, “I need to cum. Please, sweetheart, let me cum. _Please_.”

 

She quirks her lips into a smile but she's had enough herself and wants to finally get her own orgasm. “Since you've been such a good, _good_ boy,” she says, and picks up the last cracker and the ham, “I'll allow it. But only if you eat the rest of your snacks. I'll even let you eat them together.” He doesn't even wait for her to lower the food to his mouth; he sits up and takes it from her fingers with his teeth, practically wolfing it down in his desperation. Hilde leans over to grab the glass of mostly empty wine, changing the angle and earning a choked groan. “And a swallow of- _ah_! Not yet, Loki, not yet.” His hips bucked up as if against his better judgment and he whines when she twists his nipple as punishment.

 

“I should get up right now and leave, honestly I should,” she says and the abject fear in his face is totally worth the burn in her thighs for riding him for an hour. She wishes she could keep a portrait of him just like this forever. Instead, she settles for dragging her threat out for a long, long moment and then raises the glass to his mouth, motioning for him to drink. He takes a long drag from the glass, effectively draining it, and Hilde reaches out to swipe a stray drop of wine from his lips. She sucks it off her thumb and gives him a smile. “But I'm not that cruel,” she finally says, and lifts her hips up, sliding down on his cock slowly, the drag of it making them both moan. “Besides, I really need to cum right now too, so that's what you're going to do,” she breathes. Loki responds instantly, wrapping his long arms around her as he sits up on his knees and his hips move then, slow at first as if he's afraid she'll renege on her promise to let him cum “Make me cum, Loki,” she whispers, and it's as if a switch has flipped. He grasps her beneath her thighs, so that her knees rest in the crook of his elbow and he really moves then, hard, deep and strong thrusts that quite literally knock her breath from her chest.

 

Oh _this_ is what she'd wanted, _this_...If it took the threat of keeping him from cumming to get this kind of reaction, she'd do it every time.

 

He says nothing while he takes her, only covers her in biting, wet kisses and greedily palms every inch of skin he can reach. He presses a hand to the small of her back and lifts her hips at another angle, so that she cries out; it feels almost impossibly good and she is aching so much now that she has to cum or she'll scream. She finds she's screaming anyway, little short bursts of his name or “yes, gods, yes” or “right there, don't stop” until it all becomes an unintelligible string of moans and gasps. She can tell he is close when he presses her to the mattress and bends her thighs back to her chest, the new angle enough to begin tipping her over the edge. He leans in to suck at her nipples and she grabs fistfuls of black, sweat drenched hair, and tugs as he moves faster and harder. “Oh! Loki, yes, just...just yes!” Hilde closes her eyes and curls in towards him as she begins to cum. He cradles her body close to his and angles his hips just the right way so that the spiral completes and she's falling then, everything around her muted and dulled in contrast to the incredible pleasure between her thighs. “Yes, that's it,” he grits out, his voice shaking with his own impending release. “Cum for me sweetheart, cum for me hard.” She arches her back and sobs as another orgasm chases the first one. It's only then that he cums with her, her name a long, strangled cry.

 

He collapses against her, and Hilde finds the weight of him warm and welcome. They lay like this until she catches her breath and the sweat cools on her skin, making her shiver. Loki reaches over blindly and wraps them both haphazardly in the sheets, then settles against her chest again. Hilde presses a cheek to his forehead before closing her eyes and he strokes her skin softly until she drifts off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

She isn't sure what time it is when she wakes up, only that the wide illusion of space that has hung by the porthole is still swirling beautifully and the room is warmer than it was. Hilde turns her head and watches one of the globes of floating light drift by towards the illusion then bounce off of it, so that it floats out at another angle and to another corner of the room. There is no sound but the lull of the ship's engine and Loki's soft, steady breathing, so it is at least still the wee hours of the “morning”. She has plenty of time to simply lay here and be.

 

A week ago, if someone had told her she'd been in the arms of the Prince of Asgard, naked and sated and warm, she'd have laughed and scoffed at the idea. Maybe a roll in his bed, yes, but laying here with him like a lover? Ha! No such thing as taking Loki as a lover. The God of Mischief of all people? What would he even know of having a lover to begin with? Hilde hadn't once thought he'd been a celibate, prudish type of man; if anything, she expected him to have at least a dozen little bastards running around and a long list of past conquests. What she didn't expect was someone with as much depth and as many layers as he had. She was sure she'd only peeled back one or two so far and even those few surprised her.

 

He was strange, this Loki. Thor had mentioned that his brother was an adopted son of Odin, though Hilde found herself questioning that every time she glanced his way. He looked a lot like the younger Allfather, all dark hair and sharp angles, and was nearly identical to his departed older sister. Hilde hadn't been close to any of the Asgardian Royals, so she had only second hand impressions and word of mouth about Odin's exploits from some of the older Valkyries to go on. If rumor was true, he had sons and daughters in all corners of the 9 Realms and if Hilde had to guess without knowing, she'd have assumed that Loki was at least another bastard son. She didn't know who his mother may have been, only that he'd confirmed Frigga wasn't. At least biologically, he'd stressed to her, and she understood how important a distinction that was.

 

Her own mother, whom she couldn't remember no matter how much she tried to, had died before she learned to walk. Her sire, a cruel and lazy man, didn't keep anything of his late wife to give to the girl she'd borne. Instead, he refused to allow her to ask any questions about her, striking the young Brunnhilde whenever she forgot. After a while, she burrowed all thoughts of the woman away and pretended she had never existed. What use was it to cry over a dead woman, anyway? Once she joined the Valkyrior, she'd done what most of the other sisters had done and adopted Frejya as her mother; no matter how hard and strict that woman had been, she was the closest thing to a maternal influence she'd ever had and Hilde had flourished under her care.

 

And yet...

 

She wondered, as she tilted her head down to glance at the dark haired man that rested on her breast, if he ever missed a woman he hadn't even known. Or maybe Frigga had been mother enough that he didn't need to know. She wondered if he'd even talk about it. Loki held a lot of secrets close to his heart, things she was sure that Thor didn't know of even, and it was silly for her to assume he would magically begin to pour out his heart to her just because she asked. He'd told her she could have “whatever”, but that was one thing she didn't want to use that pass for. Some things needed to be guarded until the right time, and Hilde understood better than anyone how sacred private thoughts and hopes could be.

 

She still hadn't managed to say a word to anyone about-

 

Hilde drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, closing her eyes briefly to steady herself. Even thinking about _her_ made her want to seize up and curl into a ball. There was a pain there she couldn't face just yet, and especially in the presence of another person. But she needed to, she knew she did. The wound would fester and never heal unless she faced it and sometimes that meant ripping the bandage off to expose the raw flesh beneath. Her mouth dried at the thought of laying her past out on the table, but there was a warm solid body curled up against her and she was safe in a warm bed. She could at least try and think of her. If anything, Hilde owed her that.

 

She hesitated, for a long minute, and then as if peeling back a curtain, she let her memories wrap around her like a trickle of water in the desert. Blonde hair and bright blue eyes. A warm smile and soft laughter. Kisses like warm rain on a summer day. Arms that cradled and held her in the middle of a meadow, the midday sunlight streaming down like a halo. She could almost remember the feel of calloused hands on her face and soft, pink lips on her own. Of sweet I love you's and giggling, breathless kisses. Of two bodies pressed to each other as if nothing could tear them apart; long nimble fingers that trailed through her hair and yellow braids wound about a head so fair like a crown fit for a queen. A warrior with a pure and steady heart. Her friend, her lover, her everything.

 

 _Gunnr_. Her sweet, strong, beautiful Gunnr.

 

She didn't realize she was crying until the tears dripped past her cheeks and down into her pillow. And then she couldn't stop crying, shaking in silent sobs until the man she held stirred from his sleep to see what was wrong. “Hilde,” he breathed, lifting his head in confusion, then climbing up to wrap her in his arms. He didn't ask anything else, only held her as she wept, quietly and forlornly.

 

“I'm sorry,” she croaked out, after her tears had subsided, and she held on to him like a lifeline. “Why?” he asked, and he smoothed the hair from her forehead, pressed soft kisses to her neck in comfort. She threaded her fingers through his and wiped her eyes. “I woke you up,” she said simply and she could feel him shrug.

 

“You were crying. I can't sleep if you cry.”

 

Hilde is quiet then and she sighs, begins to roll over and is stopped by his arm around her waist. “I didn't mean it like that,” he says. “I meant...if you're upset, I need to be awake to see how I can fix it.” Hilde turns to him and blinks. “What?” He offers her a soft smile and nods. “That's the deal I made, didn't I? Whenever you need me, I'm here. And you needed me just now, didn't you?” She opens her mouth to protest, mostly out of habit and a little out of pride but stops herself. “Maybe,” she settles for and Loki laughs softly. “Maybe,” he agrees. “But I have to use the toilets anyway, so...” She snorts at that and he lets her go so he can get up and relieve himself. She lets her eyes roam his body as he rolls out of bed and is proud of the bite marks and scratches on his torso and back. Her eyes linger on the scar on his chest but she doesn't bring it up.

 

If he wants to talk about it, he will. Instead, she asks about another scar, a long curved one on his ribs that ends almost to his spine.

 

He glances down and fingers the scar gingerly, as if it still hurt.

 

“When we were children, Thor and I went on a boar hunt with Father. I hated hunting, still do, actually and was never quite that good at it. At least not as much as Thor was.” He bent to pick his pants up off the floor and tsked. “Ugh, these are still wet...so are yours, actually. I'll let you borrow a pair of mine when you leave.” He walked to his armoire and begin sorting through the clothes as he continued. “Anyway, we weren't having much luck in finding anything and Father was getting frustrated. Thor kept trying to make us all laugh and I was irritable; both at Father for dragging me out on this useless trip and at Thor, who wouldn't shut up. I rode off on my own for a few paces and came across the biggest boar I'd ever seen down in the brush. And then suddenly, I wanted to catch that boar. I had to impress Father, you see. I had to be better than Thor.” He is quiet for a bit and Hilde waits patiently for him to go on. With a sigh he pulls on loose pants and grabs a dark tunic.

 

“Mother had started teaching me magics as a toddler, almost. She always said I took better to her lessons than my brother did. That was my one source of pride, that was the one thing I had over him. I loved my brother, idolized him even, but he was always...he was better at everything and just once I wanted Father to look at me the way Mother did when I got a spell right. Just once.”

 

“You didn't catch the boar, did you?” Hilde asks and Loki laughs, a tinge of bitterness at a centuries old memory still tainting it.

 

“Oh I caught him, alright. I cast a spell of invisibility on myself, and crept up on the animal as quiet and careful as a mouse. And I had my bow ready, I was a decent shot, at least up close. But the spell wasn't complete because at the last minute I reappeared and frightened the boar so much he jumped toward me and nearly ran me through.” Loki traced the scar again and Hilde's eyes followed the plains of his pale skin, the muscles there toned and more prominent than she'd given him credit for. “He caught me still, right here and in pain and confusion I turn so the tusks sliced clean through the flesh all the way to here. I don't remember much else except that I'd never been in that much pain and that there was so much blood...too much.”

 

“Who found you?”

 

“Thor did. He heard me scream and came running right then. Always the good one, always the kind one.” Loki sighed. “Mother told me later that I almost died on the way back home. They managed to get my bleeding under control but I'd lost so much. I was on bed rest for weeks after that.”

 

“You're a lot more badass than I thought then,” Hilde said, attempting to lighten the mood and Loki smiled though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

 

“You sound like Thor,” he mused. “He told everyone how brave I was, how I didn't cry the whole time, how I survived being gutted open by a boar. And his friends actually thought I was terribly brave. They liked the scar. After a while, it wasn't so bad having it.”

 

They are quiet then as Loki dresses to head to the toilets, slipping his loafers on and running a comb through his hair. “I don't think anyone's even up yet,” she says, and he shrugged. “Probably, but you never know. And besides, I have an image to project,” he said, and while there was humor in his voice, there was still truth in his statement. “Do you need anything while I'm out?” Hilde looked around her and took stock of what she already had. “Nothing but a bit of water, I suppose. And maybe some more food.” He laughed then, and headed for the door.

 

“Food it is. And towels,” he mumbled. “Floor's still wet.”

 

When he shuts the door, she turns back to the illusion beside the porthole and lays down, stares out into the galaxies and nebulas before her, and starts practicing her words.

 

* * *

 

 

When he came back in she was in one of his tunics, a soft moss green one that hung to her thighs and fell from one shoulder. She stood with her back turned, her fingers drifting across the illusion of space.

 

He says nothing as he puts down another tray of food, only drops the towels in his arms on the floor and silently mops up the water left from their bath. When he's done he wraps his arms around her and watches the stars with her, the only sound for a long time the beating of their hearts and the breath in their chests.

 

It is Hilde who breaks the silence, quietly, though what she says strikes him as if she'd yelled it.

 

“Her name was Gunnr.”

 

Her hands grip his then, as if to steady herself and Loki wonders if just maybe she is using his presence to ground her. He doesn't mind at all. If she needs him, he is here.

 

“Tell me about her,” he says softly, and she turns then, her eyes full of unshed tears. But she doesn't cry this time. Instead, she opens her mouth and slowly, she begins to talk.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think that Long Ago when Hilde was a fresh faced Valkryie with a loving girlfriend, friends who had her back and a caring mother figure (even if she was a hard ass and kind of distant), she was a bubbly and open-hearted person who loved freely and wildly. I think maybe there's still a bit of that in her, under layers of unhealed trauma and years of drinking. That makes me sadder than anything. My poor girl.
> 
> Tell me how your holiday was (if you're in the States and celebrate Thanksgiving) or your weekend. I'm on tumblr if you wanna chit chat. :) || lilithenaltum@tumblr.com


	7. vii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hilde finally talks some about her past; Loki comforts her after a nightmare. And things between them begin to deepen.

Hilde hadn't known where to begin when talking about Gunnr so she started at the beginning.

 

“I spent several years in an orphanage, after my sire died. He fought in several battles during the conquest and never came home one day. I suppose I shouldn't say this, but I wasn't sad in the slightest that he was dead. I was free. I was homeless and penniless and hungry, but I was free."

 

She thinks to tell him about the abuse she suffered under Ivar, but she doesn't feel it's the right time. Maybe another day she'll peel that layer back and expose it to him the ways she needs to. So she skips it for now.

 

"It was an orphanage for girls, a ways away from home in one of the small villages that lined the main road. I'd never had sisters before so I was thrilled at the prospect of having siblings, even if they weren't mine own blood. And I became attached to a few, three little ones who curled under me at night on our threadbare beds. But our caretaker was a cruel, greedy little woman and she tried to pit all the girls against each other. Someone would be adopted and she'd remind us that over and over, the ones that were left, how unwanted we were. It created a division, it made us all suspicious and jealous of each other, though I knew she was wrong. I knew no matter how much she beat me or punished me that someone out there would want me.”

 

She paused.

 

“She was right. No one did want me, and when I was old enough to survive on my own, I must have back-talked her one too many times because she kicked me out. I wasn't worth the stipend the crown gave her for orphaned children. Not with my mouth and mischief.” Hilde laughed bitterly at the memory of cold night air and bare feet, of three wailing little girls she'd claimed as her little sisters crying whilst the caretaker had shoved her out of the large wooden doors and into the unknown.

 

“I wandered the streets for a time, picking up odd jobs and doing washer work or tilling gardens. I finally made it to the city proper a bit after I made my third century, and took to pick pocketing and theft for sustenance. I was good at it, almost to the point where I could literally steal from anyone without them even noticing. So I ate decently, and had enough money to rent a little flat beside the marketplace, and I was alright.” She smiled then, curling her fingers into Loki's dark hair as she did. He waited patiently for her to continue. "And then I stole from the wrong person.”

 

She remembered most of it hazily, blurred by hundreds of years and a lot of liquor, but it was still there, bits and pieces sticking out in her mind like a beacon even after all that time. What she did remember most was how she'd stuck her hand into the purse in the crowded marketplace, and then how quickly her hand hand been snatched before she could turn and dart away.

 

“I had been caught before but I'd always been able to shake whomever off, run away and hide out for a few hours until danger passed. That day I tried my luck with a Valkryie. I didn't know it until she hauled me around the corner and into an alleyway. My hands were still full of coin and the grip she had on my arm was brutal so I tried to claw my way out of her grasp and saw the tattoo and then I just...” She rubbed her eyes, swallowing as she took a breath. “She was _beautiful_. Good god, she was stunning. She looked just like I imagined a Valkryie would look like and she was tall and magnificent and she scared me.” Hilde laughed, a choked up wet chortle that made Loki raise his head and smile.

 

“A good memory of mischief, then?” he asked and she nodded.

 

“'I won't take you to the magistrate' she said, and I was so grateful because you see, things were much harsher back then. You got caught stealing, and from a Valkryie at that, and you were liable to get your hand chopped off or spend years in the dungeons. There were no warnings, Loki. You couldn't pay a fine or do penance or anything like that. Bor was still King back then. He was old and senile and near death's door, but he was a cruel old man and his word was still law. So if the magistrate wanted to strip me bare and give me 100 licks in the open square he could. No one would have stopped him.” Loki shook his head in disgust and traced soft lines across her collarbone. He knew almost nothing of his adopted grandfather, save a handful of tales Odin had told him long ago. “And she saved you from being punished?”

 

“Yes. Though she was swift and stern, there was a kindness in her eyes that stayed with me. She said I was wasting my life stealing trifles from people in the marketplace. That I would should apply myself in better ways. I thought she was bullshitting me, honestly, but I took her words and marinated over them for a long time after she let me go. And one day she came back to the marketplace and invited me to come back home with her and I did. I did...and she trained me herself. She begged Mother Frejya to let her oversee my training and she shaped me into a warrior and I loved her, though for a long time I didn't know it. She was the first person I can truly say that about. I'd have lovers, you know, child's play really, exploring and stumbling around in dark alleyways and brothels when I had a bit of change I could spare. Didn't really matter, though, none of it did before Gunnr.”

 

“I always thought the Valkryries were prohibited from having lovers.”

 

Hilde shook her head. “Not so much as we couldn't _marry_ while serving. If we took a husband, we had to retire. So most of the sisters had lovers on the side. It didn't matter to Mother so long as we never slacked on our duties and we kept our personal business separate. She wasn't the warmest of women, couldn't be in that environment, but she loved her girls. I knew she loved me, in her way. And she was the one who helped me realize nothing was wrong with me for liking women alongside men. There were sisters who were in relationships with each other, and some who had men on the side, but none that I knew liked both like I did.” Hilde shrugged. “You'd think after all this time I'd forget, but I still remember how it felt to have her silent approval. On everything, really. On what Pegasus I picked, on which warriors I chose for Valhalla, on how my training improved."

 

"When I told her about my feelings for Gunnr she simply shrugged and told me I had a choice; I could pretend I was only interested in friendship or I could admit I wanted more. And oh, Loki, I wanted so much more, but I was scared of rejection. Gunnr was older and wiser and I felt like she wouldn't dare want me the way I wanted her. I didn't realize she had feelings the same I had, that she was afraid of harming our relationship if we turned into something else. We danced around the matter for a few weeks but one day she took me to the meadows and we talked. We opened up about everything we felt and wanted and we kissed under the sunlight and she braided flowers into my hair and called me hers. And we were inseparable,” she says with a chuckle. ”Wherever she went, I went. We'd take off for days at a time and spend it making love and making plans. Eventually, we shared rooms together and we were a thing. _Hilde and Gunnr, Hilde and Gunnr_ and nobody that knew us thought of us separately anymore. We were one person.”

 

She is quiet then, for a long time, as she gathers her thoughts and Loki is quiet with her. He holds her close and listens to her heart beating and lets her be until she speaks again. Her voice is thick with tears but there is a weight that has fallen from her chest that she didn't even know was there.

 

“She saved me. She loved me and she saved me with her own life and...we had six hundred years together as partners and five before then as friends. We were going to retire one day and build a home in the country and adopt a bunch of orphans and raise cattle and sheep. We were going to be so happy, I know it.”

 

She's crying again, but this time it is freeing and she lets the tears come, soft sobs that shake her chest until she hiccups and turns on her side. There are tears in Loki's eyes as well, and he wipes her face before pressing his lips to her forehead and tucking her underneath his chin.

 

“Thank you for sharing her with me,” he whispers, and Hilde falls asleep to memories of golden hair and dandelions.

 

* * *

 

_She can't hear over the sound of the wind and the hail. She can not hear herself scream, though she can feel it ripping out her throat. She can't hear her heart beating out of her chest, though it definitely feels as though she will die if it beats any harder. She can only hold on as tightly as she can to the ground beneath as the cyclone swipes everything in front of her away. Homes, buildings, trees and shrubbery. And there is a billowing green and black in front of her, whipping and whirling in the pressurized air as the lank body it is attached to flails helplessly within the funnel. His eyes are open but he no longer sees, she knows, because her sword, bloody and terrible, juts out of his back and through to his chest. He's dead...dead dead dead and it's all her fault and now she's going to die too, swallowed by the storm, the breath in her body sucked out the way he was from her arms._

 

_Her hands loosen from the ground and she closes her eyes, sighs. But she can't let go and suddenly the storm is over, the cyclone disappearing as suddenly as turning off a light switch. Everything falls, but she can't see him anymore; he is gone forever, she thinks and she wants to cry. She jerks her hands again but they still don't give way and she looks to find she is shackled to the earth now, just as a heavy thud resounds behind her. There is no sound now, only the eerie deafness of a ravaged landscape and when she turns to see, it is him, blue skinned and so still, dead but still staring. Hilde shudders violently and she weeps, great heaving sobs against her stuttering heart, so painful that she can't breathe any longer and then time stands still as his head turns and red eyes find hers. He grins._

 

She wakes so suddenly and violently that she literally falls from the bed, sheets tangled between her bare legs and the neckline of his tunic almost completely off her shoulders. There are no raindrops of blood this time, but the fear is still the same, if not worse. And the heavy feeling in her chest is constricting her so that she can not breathe. She is panicking again, made worse by the fact that she can't get air and that she can hardly see in the cool, darkened room. Hilde's eyes search frantically and feverishly for Loki but he isn't around, and she is so terrified she can't make herself move towards to the door. Her mouth opens uselessly; it seems her chest will not heave a breath into her body and there are tears blurring her vision.

 

In her desperation her scrambled mind screams his name over and over again and just as it seems everything around her is fading there is a hard body wrapped around her and distantly, someone is calling her name. But she is still falling, she still can not breathe, and her chest burns with lack of air. Glassy eyed and nearly unconscious, she starts to give in, only for lips to slant across her mouth and a hard push of air to rush into her lungs, making her cough and hack until she begins to draw breath herself. Her head is spinning, then stops suddenly so that she leans forward and vomits, all over the floor and her legs and feet. She sucks in short desperate breaths between heaving, somewhat aware that the arms around her have not stop holding her but are helping her to lean forward to expel the contents of her stomach.

 

When it finally stops, she's left with a headache and shaky hands, her skin clammy and sour with sweat. The smell of her vomit makes her nauseous again but she has nothing left to throw up so she only dry heaves a bit. She doesn't want to do anything but cry now but she can't even move for a long time; instead she sits in her sick and pants, willing her heart to stop galloping so painfully in her chest. It is only when Loki moves from behind her that she stirs some.

 

“I...” she tries, but her throat is stripped and it hurts to talk or swallow. His face is ashen but he looks at her directly, smoothing strands of tangled curly hair from her sweaty brow.

 

“Hilde...” His voice is low and tenuous and it cracks at the edges. He smooths his thumbs over her jawline and stares at her like she has grown three heads. He looks terrified. What had she done?

 

She wants to ask but she can't talk. Instead she moves wobbly legs to stand, smearing some of the vomit as she does so and she wrinkles her nose to keep from inhaling lest she heaves again. Loki reaches and pulls her from the ground and she allows him to, not even objecting when he hauls her into his arms and begins walking from the room.

 

“You need to shower,” he says by way of explanation, and though she hadn't asked him anything she doesn't question it. Instead she leans her head onto his chest and closes her eyes briefly. There is a flash of red and wind and a bloody sword still behind her lids so she forces her eyes open again and grips the front of his shirt tighter as he walks quietly down the hall.

 

It is warm and still in the showers and she curls into the corner of one stall while he fetches towels and soap from the adjacent storeroom. She doesn't close her eyes again; instead she focuses on one fixed tile ahead of her and begins to count slowly so that she does not panic without him beside her. On 34, he returns and locks the door, setting everything he needs minus soap on one of the benches outside the shower stall. After he undresses and helps her stand, she allows him to strip her of his ruined tunic, vomit and spit crusted on the bottom hem, and says nothing as he turns on the warm water and begins to lather. They are silent like this for as long as it takes for him to wash away the filth and sweat and slowly, the warm water and his gentle hands calm her so that her heart beats normally and her skin no longer prickles in alarm.

 

“I felt like I was going to die,” she murmurs. Her throat is still sore and dry but she can breathe and she isn't shaking anymore and his body is comforting in it's largeness. Hilde catalogs how much taller he is than her, how he bends like a willow to wrap himself around her smaller nude form, how his fingertips rub soothing circles on the skin of her lower back. He shelters her from the remnants of her nightmare like a lighthouse in a summer swell, his large hands circling her small waist and his lips pressed against her throbbing temples. He feels so solid and real and sure around her that she never wants to let go. He lets her hold him as long as she needs to.

 

It must be at least half and hour before she pulls away. His eyes are tired and red rimmed and she feels a pang in her chest to have scared him so. She does not know why this hurts her as much as it does but she wants to cry that she has made him so worried. To think, Loki Liesmith afraid for her. It would make her chuckle if it didn't unsettle her so.

 

“What time is it?” she croaks out, when Loki turns to cut off the now cold water and wraps her in a large towel. He begins to dry her vigorously, and she wonders if he knows how good that feels.

 

“An hour to first breakfast,” he answers, and while she knows his face is a mess of emotions, his voice is sure and even and that makes her feel more grounded than she's been in the last hour. “I think just about everyone is still sleeping, if you're worried about being seen.” He dresses swiftly and then tugs another long tunic over her slightly damp skin

 

She is. She gives him a hint of a smile and patters from the shower stall on wet feet. But she doesn't have to walk back to his room nor hers; Loki rolls everything into one of their towels then picks her up easily before she can protest and darts down the corridor on stealthy feet. Hilde thinks she should complain about being lugged around like a sack of fruit but she really doesn't mind the treatment. Being babied never hurt, and she hadn't been babied in a long long time. If the Prince wants to be at her service, well, who is she to deny him?

 

She's curled up in a plush chair, sipping warm tea, while he quickly cleans his room. The vomit has dried on the floor, making it a bit easier to sweep up and discard, and he washes the rest away with a wet sudsy towel. A thought blooms in Hilde's slightly delirious head. He looks like he should be singing whilst he scrubs, like a kitchen maid secretly born from royalty. The idea makes her snicker some and she catches his eye while he finishes wiping the floor, a curious smile flitting about his mouth. “What has you so tickled?” he questions, his voice low and soft and silk and she knows that it's deliberate, that he's doing what he can to keep her calm and comfortable. That makes her smile a bit wider.

 

“You look like Katie Woodcloak, scrubbing her step mother's floors.”

 

Loki snorted at that and rung his wet towel out into the bucket beside him. “You've been reading mother's storybook then,” he noted as he stood. “Floor is wet, sweetheart, so be careful getting back into bed. But the sheets are fresh and warm for you.”

 

Hilde straightened her legs in the chair and groaned at how stiff her joints were. She tiptoed around most of the wetspots and was careful when she couldn't avoid them, crawling into bed gratefully, as she was as exhausted as she'd ever been. “Will you go fetch it for me?” she asked, doe eyed and innocent looking and Loki pressed his lips into a line to keep from laughing. “The storybook, I mean,” she added, in case he needed clarification. He gave her a sweeping exaggerated bow and grabbed the bucket of dirty water on his way out. “Do you want me to get anything else? Clothes, shoes...underthings?”

 

Hilde nodded. “All of the above.” She pulled a fist full of her hair forward and winced at all the knots and tangles that had set in. “And perhaps my brush and hair oil, too.”

 

Loki hums his acquiescence. "And that's all?" She drums her fingers along her bare thigh and nearly decides against asking him, but then does in a rush anyway.

 

"How did you know I needed you to come back?"

 

He is still for a heart beat and then his face is as earnest as she's ever seen it. 

 

"I told you...I can feel you."

 

She is deep in thought when he leaves the room.

 

* * *

  

“' _When they had walked on a little farther they came to a brook which ran through a green meadow, and there the younger said that they ought to christen each other_ '”, Hilde read, her fingers curled around the beautiful blue book of fairytales. Her voice was a soft lilting thing, the way it had been when she was so very young and she made up stories to tell the young girls at the orphanage. She realized that she was familiar with the story, and probably could have told it from memory, if a bit altered, but reading from the book was enchanting all on it's own. There were illustrations to match the story that she glanced at every so often while she read aloud. “` _As we had to make such haste, and had no time to do it at home, we may as well do it here,’ said he._ _`What will you be called?’ asked the elder._ _`I will be called Minnikin,’ answered the second; `and you, what will you be called?_ ’ _`I will be called King Pippin,’ answered the elder.'”_

 

Loki sat behind her on the bed, a comb in one hand and strands of hair in his other. He patiently worked knots and kinks out of the curls and smoothed oils down each section, brushing the hair gently until it shone like dark glass. Every so often he would apply a bit of the oils to her scalp and massage, so that she had to pause her reading and lean into his touch. After moving on to another section, she continued.

 

“ _'So they parted once more, and each took his own road, but in a very short time the same thing happened again–they met each other before they were at all aware, and so it happened the third time also. Then they arranged with each other that each should choose his own quarter, and one should go east and the other west.'”_

  


And then Loki recited alongside her so that she could not help but to smile. She wondered how many times before he had read this story.

 

 _“`But if ever you fall into any need or trouble,’ said the elder, `call me thrice, and I will come and help you; only you must not call me until you are in the utmost need.’_ “

  


She stopped there and set the book down, turning her head to find his green eyes staring off into the distance, the comb stilled in his hand. “That was my favorite,” he said after a moment, and met her eyes. The lines that crinkled there as he smiled were endearing and Hilde reached up to touch his cheek. “Mother read that one to me so many times that I could quote it verbatim, and often did. Sometimes we'd recite it together before bed and I almost never had a nightmare when we did.” He threads his fingers through her now untangled hair and there is a sadness on his face that makes her chest ache. She has a brief vision of a small dark haired boy curled into his bed, sleepily murmuring the words to the tale as the soft hands of a beautiful woman stroke his brow.

  


“Then recite the rest to me while you braid my hair,” Hilde says. Loki searches her face and she wonders what he is looking for, but he turns and closes the jar of oils, puts them away. He draws several long strands of cord out of the air to bind her braids and gently tilts her head back so he can begin to part her hair again. For several minutes, the only sound is her soft breaths and the whisper of his fingers braiding her hair swiftly and expertly. She thinks to ask him how he does what he's doing so well, but he begins to speak then, in that beautiful velvet voice of his and she pushes that question back to another time.

  


“ _`In that case we shall not see each other for some time,’ said Minnikin; so they bade farewell to each other, and Minnikin went east and King Pippin went west...'”_

  


* * *

 

“You'll tell Banner about the dreams, won't you?”

  


She shoves her feet into her boots and lifts her eyes to his, the worry etched there plain and open.

  


“Of course. I'm meeting him after breakfast.”

  


“And you'll tell me what he says, yes?”

  


She chuckles and finishes up the clasps at her ankles. “If you want, sure.”

  


He nods and fiddles with his armor, as if he's uncertain of what she wants to hear, but he makes a decision to tell her honestly and she sees the entire thing play out across his face.

 

“I want,” he says simply and then he is slicking his hair back, straightening to his full height and flashes her a brilliant, coy smile. He is the Prince again, all sharp angles and guarded words and somehow it makes her feel a little bereft. She pushes it away.

 

“I must go. I have accounting to do and larders to adjust and Thor wants to meet with me right after lunch.”

 

“Then go, your Highness, the people call,” she retorts and he bows shortly, turns on his heel, and strides to the door as if he owns the entire ship. It's familiar in a way she doesn't really like anymore. She's still watching his back when the door shuts and she's left alone, for the first time in hours, with her own thoughts.

  


Just before she moves to leave, she realizes that he's left his cape folded beside the bed, right next to hers, and she shivers when she touches it, the fine heavy material flowing through her fingers like water. It's the same one from her nightmare and it should make her hackles raise but it doesn't. Instead, she glances between both capes and hesitates for a second before she clasps black and green onto her leathers, a smile tugging at her lips when it billows behind her as she walks down the corridor to breakfast. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I not only had a hard time writing while trying to crochet for a craft show, I was also in the middle of a bad case of writer's block and couldn't figure out where I wanted to go with this chapter. I'm still not too sure about it, but I'd love your feedback regardless. <3
> 
> come say hi on tumblr too! || lilithenaltum


	8. viii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There may be something there that wasn't there before." 
> 
> Hilde talks to Bruce, Thor teases Loki, and neither of our babies can get each other off their mind.

Breakfast is quick and she takes it alone, dining at one of the far tables of the mess room. It isn't that she doesn't want to be bothered so much as she is trying to figure out how to talk to Bruce about her panic attacks and needs the time to gather her words. Bruce is probably the easiest person on the ship to speak to, but this is different. There's something about baring all to someone that makes her nervous and antsy and she almost thinks to renege on their meeting. But she'd promised, and Hilde hated breaking promises, especially to someone like Bruce, someone who only cared and gave and wanted nothing in return. Having friends as selfless as he was something she hadn't experienced in a long time and it was such a blessed feeling that she swallowed her fear and knocked on the door to the scientist's room as soon as she was done with her muffin, sausage and eggs.

 

Bruce, as usual, greeted her with a smile and a side hug, urging her to sit on one of his folding chairs in the corner of the room. His room was smaller than hers or Loki's, but cozy, and there was soft light and several blankets piled upon his small bed. He poured a bit of dark brew he called coffee for her into a mug and puttered around the room, searching for sweetener and cream. “I don't know if you'll take it black,” he began, then chuckled softly when she choked and gasped at the bitter, hot drink. “But I'm gonna take that as a no.” After pouring enough cream and sugar into the mug to turn it from black to barely tan, Hilde finally found she could somewhat enjoy the coffee and happily drank it down, dipping some sugar cookies into the liquid as she did.

 

She still found she preferred Loki's mint and fruit teas, though.

 

The two friends snacked and chatted quietly for a while, Bruce filling her in on how his training with Heimdall was going and also how much he was enjoying being the defacto ship doctor. “There aren't many ailments, to be honest, just people needing band aids or salves, but it's a lot more fun than sitting in here all day moping.” Bruce paused and took another cookie from the tray between them. Then he grinned. “And Agatha is a real treat.” Agatha had been the palace healer for several hundred years, replacing the old one she'd remembered. Apparently, the late Mildrior had been Agatha's grandmother and passed the gift down to her granddaughter, a lone girl in a sea of tens of grandsons, three of whom had survived Ragnarok.

 

“She's no nonsense, from what Heim's told me,” Hilde said and she saw the man blush just a bit, a hint of color creeping from her cheeks up to his hairline.

 

“Definitely, but there's some playfulness to it too. Anyway, she's a joy to work with and I've learned a whole lot from her in the last few weeks.” Hilde smiled. He'd probably also developed a little attachment to the healer, too, but she decided to keep that to herself. Maybe she'd tease him about it later.

 

“But enough about me, Val, tell me. What's been going on with you? Ya know, besides the panic attacks and dreams and stuff.” Bruce had set his mug of coffee down and was patiently waiting on her response. Hilde sighed, hesitating if only to stall time, then mentally slapped herslef. If she was going to get a handle on this, she was going to have to talk about it and who better than Bruce?

 

Besides, she'd told Loki all her business, and he had been the last person she'd expect to be able to confide in. Confiding in Bruce should have been much easier.

 

Somehow, it was harder.

 

She started out haltingly, but slowly began elaborating, telling him about the dreams she'd had in as much detail as she could manage, as well as how the panic attacks made her feel. She left out details of the night before, trying her best to keep her little dalliance with Loki under wraps but she had to admit that he'd, once again, been there to help her after the last nightmare. Bruce didn't comment one way or another about the Prince's apparent knack for showing up when Hilde really needed him, only nodding and humming in acknowledgment as she talked. He listened intently, writing a few things down on a pad of paper in intelligible handwriting. And when she finished talking, shaky and a little panicky from revisiting her bad dreams, Bruce poured her another cup of coffee and pushed more cookies her way. He was silent for a while as she sipped and ate, then sat back in his chair and tapped his pin against his temple in thought.

 

“PTSD is definitely what I would say is going on but there's something deeper than that...maybe some sort of trauma from repressing all of this for so long. Anything happen to you as a kid that could have been as, um, traumatic as losing all your friends like you did?” Hilde stopped mid sip and stared at her friend as he waited.

 

She could possibly tell him about her papa and his abuse, about how she'd been mistreated by the orphanage, or how not knowing who her mother was had shaped nearly every decision she'd made in her entire life, but she wasn't sure if he really needed to know all of that just to help her with some nightmares. Besides, she'd gotten over that ages ago, when she was still a Valkyrie. Gunnr had been the one to help her work through that pain.

 

That was old news. No, she decided, she wouldn't bring up any mention of that. And so she shook her head and continued drinking her coffee.

 

Bruce nodded one time and scribbled something else on his paper before rubbing his face and sighing. Her stomach sank.

 

“So I'm a lost cause, huh.”

 

Bruce frowned. “God, no...no, I'm just...I'm not a therapist or anything like that. I'm a scientist. I'm just basing what I know on what I've experienced personally and...look, there's no quick fix on how to deal with any of this. We don't have any medication here-”

 

“We've got plenty of booze,” she supplied and he shook his head.

 

“There's nothing wrong with booze, ya know, I mean I like a good drink every once in a while, but it's a depressant. It numbs you, it...it keeps you from feeling and you gotta feel to heal anything.”

 

Hilde scoffed. “So what you're telling me is I have to cut down on my drinking so I can...feel more? I feel enough as it is, I'm practically suffocating and dying after these fucking dreams and I-”

 

Bruce holds up a hand, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. “That's not what I meant, really. I mean, yeah you feel, we all do. I just mean...stop running from it.”

 

“I'm not,” she retorts, and she's slightly aware she's pouting but so what? He doesn't really get it, not the way she'd expected him to. He's supposed to fix this, not tell her to stop running. “I've stopped running, I'm here aren't I?”

 

Bruce presses his lips into a thin line and then shrugs. “You tell me. Do you think you're really facing what happened? I honestly think, and this is just...this is just from personal experience once again, that if you truly face what you fear head on, if you can grasp every little thing that's made up what you're scared of now and confront it, you'll begin to heal. It won't be easy, it won't be over night, it'll hurt, Val. But you gotta quit denying and pretending you're fine when you aren't.”

 

She says nothing to that, angry as she is, and instead she gets up abruptly and moves to leave Bruce's room. He calls to her, a sadness in his voice that makes her pause and second guess why she's even mad at him. _I'm not mad at him, I'm angry at myself._

 

“Does it help any to talk about it?” he asks then and she looks down to find his brow furrowed in concern. She really feels bad now, and lets out a breath, her anger slipping away to reveal an almost crushing sadness. She's in pain and she's trying to take it out on someone who has only cared about her. And then she thinks of the night before and how light her chest had felt after finally talking to someone about the orphanage and Gunnr.

 

“Yes...a little.”

 

He smiles, softly, and there seems to be a moment where Bruce makes his mind up. He's not going to give up on her, so he won't allow her to give up on herself.

 

“Then keep talkin',” he says, reaching out to take her hand. She accepts it and squeezes gently. “I'm always here to talk to. Heim and Thor, too, hell even Korg. He loves to talk. He's a damn good listener, believe it or not.” Hilde can't help laughing at that. “From personal experience, I'm guessing,” she says and he shrugs.

 

“Hey, sometimes you just need to vent and sometimes the only person around is a giant rock.” They're both chuckling at that and she feels a little less hopeless now. “I'm not...I won't give up trying,” she says, in a small voice and Bruce nods.

 

“I know you won't. You're not a quitter, Val.” Hilde offers to help with cleaning up the coffee and cookies, and the two chat a little more about possibly coming to see him more often. “I mean, if anything, I'll listen. And make more coffee, if you want.” She smiles and gives him a curt nod.

 

“I'd like that, big guy. But if you're going to be my...what'd you call it, a shrunk?”

 

 

He laughs. “A shrink, yeah.”

 

 

“A shrink...well, call me by my name.”

 

"Your name's not Valkyrie?” he teases and she rolls her eyes, stealing a few more cookies for the road. “It's Brunnhilde,” she says, and he gives her a genuine smile, clasping her shoulder as he does.

 

“I like it. It suits you.”

 

Hilde isn't so sure about that, but she allows the warm feeling that his compliment gives wash through her.

 

Bruce shows her to the door, grabbing the short sword propped up beside it as he does, and follows her down the corridor. They're both headed to the training room, where he's working with Heimdall and where she's got a dozen girls waiting for training. Before they split onto separate sides of the room he hold her back for a second and whispers, just so that she hears him.

 

“Whatever Loki is doin'...tell him to keep it up, okay?”

 

She blinks, taken aback by his words. There's no way he knows about last night, besides the dream, is there? “I...don't know what you-” He shakes his head and grins. “You don't have to tell me anything, I promise. Just...he's good for you.” And with that, he jogs toward Heimdall happily, leaving Hilde bewildered and a little flustered. She shakes it off, filing his words away for later, and greets her students warmly.  

 

* * *

 

Tallying the larder was a long, boring job for most, but Loki found it surprisingly relaxing. All he had to do was count supplies and adjust his ledger, make notations about what was needed at the next fuel and rest stop, and adjust his accounting to reflect how much money would need to be spent and had been already. Easy peasy. He’d always had a head for numbers, anyway, and had confessed one night to his mother that he’d much rather be an accountant than a prince. She’d laughed at that little dream, but hadn’t discouraged him from playing around with maths, secretly allowing him to sneak into the offices of the royal accountants and work out accounts payables and received. “It’s good for your energy,” she’d said, and as usual, Frigga was right.

 

He missed his mother an awful lot right now.

 

Once done with the foodstuffs side of the larder he moved on to medical supplies (thankfully, not many had been used) and cleaning supplies, making note that they were running low on all purpose cleaner and dish soap. He’d have to inform the janitorial department to cut back a wee bit on cleaning times, perhaps reducing it from thrice a week to once, and made a mental note to ask Thor to encourage the people to help keep their surroundings tidier to take the load off. With a sigh, and a few more adjustments to his books, he finally left the larder and sat his accounting work on his desk.

 

There was dust built up on the top, signifying days that he’d avoided doing his duties, and so he grabbed a loose rag and a bit of polish and set to work. This was relaxing too, the mindless wiping and spot cleaning, and if it hadn’t been unbecoming he’d have probably volunteered for dish duty. But Thor had mentioned that while doing mundane accounting work may have give the people a reason to think more of him than before, lowering himself to the status of kitchen maid was taking it a bit too far. “A displaced prince is still a prince, brother,” Thor had said, quiet and sage like, and for a second he felt as though he were being reprimanded by Odin. Only this Odin was kind and gentle in his admonition, so that Loki only bowed and gave a cursory smile instead of bristling.

 

He definitely had missed his mother then. Frigga wouldn’t have said anything about him taking a dish to the water; she’d have rolled her own elegant sleeves up and dived in with him. And they’d have enjoyed it too, such work, as lowly as some may have seen it. It was necessary and it was distracting and Loki had wanted nothing more than a distraction. But, it seemed, when he finally had one, his mind still drifted anyway. And more often than not, it drifted to Hilde.

 

He replayed last night in his head so many times whilst counting that he was surprised that he could get anything done. Every kiss and touch and sigh, and how devilish and delicious she’d looked atop him, moving ever so slowly and denying him the chance to cum. It had been incredibly erotic to simply suck salt and meat from her fingers, to wash soap from her gorgeous skin. He wanted to make that a regular thing, the bathing. He wanted to spend every evening with her back pressed against his chest, with her laughter and soft moans and sultry grins. If he had his way, he’d sleep safe and warm between her thighs, his head on her chest as he fell asleep to her strong heartbeat. She was stunning, his Valkyrie.

 

But she really wasn’t his. And while that would have never bothered him before, it left a weird ache in his chest. He wanted her to be his. He wanted her to crave him as much as he knew he craved her. He was in over his head already and was terrified of how much power she could have over him. It was probably best to lay low for a bit, then, he decided. If she needed him tonight, he’d have to keep it mostly platonic. Perhaps a story, or even a massage. But no love making. Maybe a quick fuck if she really needed it but nothing too deep. He wouldn’t leave her bed or let her leave his ever if she kept this up.

 

Once his desk gleamed and his hands ached from polishing, he left his post, locking his books in the desk for safekeeping, and headed to the throne room in search of his brother. Thor usually wanted to meet midweek for updates on their supplies and purse, occasionally inviting his brother in for lunch and a chat. It was, initially, a little uncomfortable and stifling, but over the weeks Loki found himself looking forward to it. He’d missed their banter and teasing, though he still wouldn’t admit that aloud to Thor, and after a morning of mind numbing counting, he’d have something stimulating to do besides sparring or reading.

 

Thor was waiting for him as usual, lunch already on the table and a goblet of good wine in his hand. Before he could sit, the elder brother was pouring him a drink and ladling his bowl full of hearty vegetable soup. Loki wasn’t going to eat half of what Thor had fixed, but graciously thanked him anyway and broke a piece of bread off to go with his food. They ate in silence for a few minutes, comfortable and familiar, and Loki found himself smiling in spite of himself. He’d have loved to have Hilde here at that moment, sitting beside him with her own large bowl of soup and the largest chunk of bread. He’d let her have his excess and wipe stray dribbles of broth from her chin, kissing her full lips as she smiled at him lovingly. And then they’d sit and talk to his brother, about a little of everything, her legs stretched across his lap as he idly traced lines into her thighs. He could almost feel the heat from her body radiating through his-

 

“LOKI!”

 

Loki blinked, his empty spoon suspended in mid air and his bowl now empty. Had he really eaten all of that soup? And his bread was gone too, though he still had a near full cup of wine.

 

Thor was starring at him oddly but there was a twinkle in his eye that made Loki nervous. “I’ve been calling your name for a while now,” Thor said, and he tilted his head curiously. “You’ve been plowing through the soup as if you hadn’t eaten in weeks.” Loki felt himself heat up and he grabbed his goblet quickly, swallowing his embarrassment with a swig of wine.

 

“Perhaps I was a bit…distracted.”

 

Thor snorted. “That’s an understatement. What’s gotten in to you? By now, you’d be talking my head off and here you are, eating like a starved man, his eyes staring into space.” He leaned forward, staring at Loki with a squinted, intense eye and then pressed his hand to his brother’s forehead dramatically. “Fever? Are you feeling well? Perhaps you’ve got a bit of the flux?” He was laughing as Loki swatted his hand away, annoyed but also a bit amused.

 

“I assure you, it’s nothing of the sort. I’m simply a little…sleep deprived.” He wouldn’t tell him _why_ he was sleep deprived, as much as he wanted someone to talk to about Hilde. She wouldn’t appreciate him blabbing about their arrangement to her King and especially when she’d asked him to keep it on the hush.

 

Thor hummed and ladled another bowl of soup for himself. “I can definitely see that. Nightmares again?” He sounded concerned, and Loki felt a little demurred, but the younger brother had to use any out he had so that he wouldn’t reveal himself any more than he had already. “You could say that,” he said, and realized it wasn’t entirely a lie. There had been a nightmare last night, just not his. And he had been awake after the fact because of it, even if he hadn’t had the nightmare himself.

 

So really, it was a lie by omission, probably one of the easiest to get by someone.

 

Thor seemed to buy his explanation and grasped his brother’s shoulder. “You know you’re more than welcomed to come see me anytime that happens,” he offered, sincere in his concern, and Loki smiled gently. “I mean, I sleep like the dead, apparently, but I’ll always wake if you need me.”

 

“I know,” Loki responded, and then he deftly changed the subject so he wouldn’t have to lie again. He was never bothered telling tales but Thor’s worry over him unsettled him more than it used to. Perhaps there was no longer the poisonous animosity towards Thor to cloud his mind. Or maybe his conscience had began waking up.

 

Once they’d done discussing the usual issues and brainstormed plans on what to do once they got to Midgard, the two sat back and discussed light fare, including how Heimdall’s training with Banner was going and that there were two pregnancies on board the ship. “Good thing we’ve got the palace healer, then,” Loki mentioned and Thor nodded.

 

“Speaking of which, I’ve noticed something going on between her and our Midgardian friend.”

 

Loki chuckled. “Agatha _is_ quite the beauty. I wouldn’t be surprised that Banner is taken with her. But doesn’t he already have a lady love on Earth?”

 

Thor shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure if the situation with the Widow is as serious as I’d initially thought. Or perhaps he’s like any man. Eyes stray, but that doesn’t mean hearts do.” Thor was quiet for a beat, long enough to eye his brother in a way that made Loki want to squirm. He fought against the urge to and sipped more wine.

 

“Spit it out,” Loki insisted, after the staring got a little too intense.

 

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Thor insisted, but a smile curled around his lips and Loki knew he was fibbing.

 

“I’m the liar, brother, not you. It doesn’t look well on you.”

 

“Lying? _Me_? Never,” Thor scoffed, then grinned like a cat that caught a canary. “I’ll simply stare until you spill. Shall I take the patch off, brother? I knew it unnerves you.” He reached up slowly and began to peel it away, making Loki suck in a sharp breath and wave his hands frantically to get him to stop. Seeing the dark hole that was Thor’s eye made his skin itch.

 

“Fine! Fine, you win, just…put that thing back, _dear god_.”

 

Thor slid his patch back in place with a laugh and then crossed his hands in front of him. “Well? Do tell. Who’s got you missing sleep and spacing out?”

 

“Why does it have to be a who, and not a what? Did you not hear me about the nightmares?”

 

“Oh I did,” Thor responds, and nudges Loki with his boot. “But they’re not _your_ nightmares, are they?” Loki narrows his eyes and opens his mouth to deny this but waits a second to long, so that Thor perks up even more.

 

“Ah. I see. The Valkryie had another bad dream last night and her shining Prince swooped in to save her, yes?”

 

Loki scoffed. “Why…how do you…you don’t have to make it sound like _that_ , it’s not…ugh!” He throws his hands up as his brother erupts into peals of laughter and then slouches in his seat, pouting as he does so. “I’m not a shining prince, you dolt. I’m simply a concerned friend-“

 

“Oh ho ho! A friend, are we? Loki, you haven’t had friends in years. Not since you and Sif broke up.”

 

“We were 12, Thor, I’ve had…well, I’ve made acquaintances since then. That was ages ago, I nearly had forgotten…look, I consider her a friend. I do. And since I’m trying so desperately hard to not be the fuck up you and the rest of the universe seem to think I am-“

 

“You _are_ a fuck up Loki. I love you anyway.”

 

“Just…shut up, I’m trying to explain!” He was getting angry, though he wasn’t really sure why. Thor’s teasing rarely did more than annoy him but this was like scratching a sore spot and it wasn’t funny. If only Thor had seen Hilde last night, he’d wipe that smirk from his face. And so, in his irritation, he said as much.

 

Thor quieted. “What do you mean? Was it worse than the other night, then?”

 

“Yes,” Loki said, breathless and unsettled as he recounted how she’d been unable to draw a breath, how he was terrified she would suffocated without his little mouth to mouth procedure. Thor made not one joking gesture the entire time, his brow furrowing as Loki continued recounting the previous night.

 

“I…wow. I knew she’d had bad dreams and…what do you call them? Panic attacks? And I told her to come to you since…well, I know you’ve had some trouble with those and you may could help but…”

 

Thor wiped his face and sighed. “She’s my friend, too, Loki. And I want her to be well. And I’m sorry for teasing. I didn’t realize they were getting worse.”

 

Loki shrugs, his temper cooled to nearly nil. “You…didn’t know, brother, it’s not your fault. I promised her I wouldn’t go blabbing her business all over the ship and I thought keeping that from you counted as such, but…well, it’s good to know you’re as concerned as I am. And yes, she is my friend. I do care about her, as surprising as that sounds.” He kept the part about craving and needing her to himself; he wasn’t ready to even admit how deeply she affected him to anyone, least of all his brother.

 

But Thor seemed to catch on to something underneath his declaration of friendship because he was staring again, this time with an almost knowing expression on his face. Loki bit his lip to keep from stuttering anything that incriminate him and mentioned Hilde’s meeting with Banner. “He seems to be a decent listening ear if anything and they were buddies whilst on Sakaar. If anyone could get to the root of her issues it’d be him.”

 

Thor nodded. “Bruce is excellent when dealing with problems of the heart and mind. He’s quite the empath and it definitely comes in handy when you need a shoulder.” He pauses and then smiles, and Loki is sure Thor is done needling him about Hilde, finally. He lets out a rush of breath in relief, and takes a last sip of his wine before standing.

 

“I’ll let you get back to whatever you’ve got planned for today, then,” Thor begins, and stands with him, walking him to the door. “If you have need of anything, remember-“

 

“Yes, yes, _‘My door is always open’_.”

 

Thor clapped him on his back and it was then, as Loki was heading out the door that he smirked, that sly unnerving look back in his eye.

 

“Do tell me though, brother…who exactly is this _Hilde_ you’re talking about?”

 

* * *

 

“I…may have accidently told Thor your name.”

 

Hilde paused mid shot and slid her gaze to the man beside her at the bar. They sat in the mess hall after hours, doing shots of blue Sakaarian liquor and talking about their day. Hilde had filled him in on her appointment with Bruce as well as how training had gone. There were several girls she found promising already and was looking forward to working with them on forms and stances tomorrow. Then Loki had gave her a little rundown of his conversation with Thor but there was something he was leaving out and she had prodded and prodded until he fessed up.

 

Hilde hadn’t been Brunnhilde in such a long time that it felt like giving someone power when she told them what her name was. And while she had planned on telling the King eventually, she had wanted to be the one to give him that information. Not Loki. He was staring at her in trepidation, though, so it couldn’t have been on purpose. She gave him a soft reassuring smile and squeezed his hand.

 

“It’s alright…he was going to know someday, now wasn’t he?” Loki nodded, his shoulders relaxing just a little, but she could tell he still felt poorly about it. She had insisted on discretion and privacy from him and so far he had done everything in his power to keep that trust maintained.

 

Besides, Thor had been doing a lot of needling. She’d have a talk with him about that later.

 

“I’m serious, Lackey,” she said, smiling wider so he knew he wasn’t in any danger of having his ass kicked. Not tonight, anyhow. “You get a pass for today. Just don’t make it a habit. And nobody else needs to know beside us anyway.” He nodded again and did two shots in quick succession without so much as a gasp or sputter. He was getting really good at holding his liquor, she thought, and it made her unreasonably proud. “Bruce knows. Heimdall already knew, and I told you myself. Thor was bound to find out some kind of way. Don’t sweat it.”

 

“Are you going to keep tally of how many times I slip up?”

 

His voice was low and raspy and it made her skin heat up in a very pleasant way. She loved his voice, more than she wanted to admit, especially when he right in her ear, his arms wrapped around her waist and his body flush against hers. She shivered, and tried not to get distracted by memories of the night before. It was all she could do during lunch to not drift off into a daydream right there, while Bruce and Heimdall and Korg chatted around her. She couldn’t get the fantasy out of her head of him beneath the table, his hands on her bare thighs, his mouth pressed against her center as his tongue did magical things to her.

 

Loki hadn’t even tasted her yet and she knew it would be amazing.

 

“Nope,” she said and then nudged him playfully. “No tallies over here. That’s too much work for me.” He finally smiled and it made his eyes crinkle in a way that warmed her all over. “I’ll simply teach you a lesson whenever I catch you slipping up.”

 

“So I better not, then,” he murmured, his mouth coming closer and closer to hers and she grinned, her eyes slipping shut as his lips brushed her own. “I’d hate for my Valkyrie to punish me too severely.” And before she could think about what he meant by _his Valkyrie_ , he was kissing her, slowly and deeply, so that she lost track of everything but how good he tasted and how quickly her body was responding to him. Before he could protest, she was straddling his lap on the barstool, her shots forgotten and his mouth on her neck. “May I leave a mark?” he whispers and she shudders when one of his long fingered hands pulls her hips closer to his.

 

“Only…mmm…only if you can hide it,” she whispers back. He chuckles at that, something deep, dark and sinful that makes her grind into him unconsciously, and he groans then, pushing her backward and then forwards again so she rides him a little. “This would work so much better if we were naked,” she says and giggles when he slaps her rear, motioning for her to lift her bottom so he can slide her leathers down. She complies, hurriedly shucking one of her boots off so she can wiggle a leg out, and he laughs to find her bare bottomed.

 

“Were you ready for me, sweetheart?” he purrs. God she loves it when he calls her that, especially like this, where it rumbles in his chest and his green eyes are blown wide with desire. She wants him to call her that all the time. “Yes,” she breathes and she isn’t sure when he’s moved his pants aside, but she’s so wet that she’s sliding down on his cock with no issue and he’s filled her to the brim and he’s so full and thick and _hot_ and oh…she gives a moan that could wake the dead. “Yes!” she gasps again, light headed and aching for him.

 

He shushes her but groans himself when she shifts up and back down again, though her feet slip from the foot rests of the stool and she huffs in frustration.

 

“I can’t…mmm Loki, I can’t-“

 

“I’ve got you,” he pants, and then he grasps her hips and lifts her up again, allowing her to fall back down, her hands steadying themselves on his shoulders. He’s stronger he looks and that turns her on even more, if that was possible, so that there’s little keening noises coming from her throat and unintelligible garbled demands for harder and more. She’s so wound up and he feels so good that she’s cumming before she knows it, her orgasm slamming into her like a fall from the sky, and she can’t breathe or think but this is good, this amazing and she doesn’t want to do anything but feel. Every nerve stands on end and his nails are scratching patterns in the flesh of her thighs and she wails then, not even cognizant of how loud she is until Loki covers her mouth with his own and shudders out his own orgasm.

 

They sit, still joined, trading kisses and giggling against each other’s mouths until a sharp clearing of the throat makes both of them jerk away from each other so fast they nearly fall from the stool. The action makes them disconnect abruptly and Hilde can feel the loss acutely, making her whine from the lack of contact.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know the room was taken. Nice to see you there, Ms. Valkyrie, and you too, Loki. Was just gonna grab a little drink for myself and maybe Miek. He likes the blue stuff too.” Korg is waffling at the door of the mess, his face passive and blank though Hilde figures that it’s always like that, seeing as he’s literally a walking pile of rocks. “Um, Korg?” Loki begins, his voice cracking and he stealthy tucks himself back into his pants, waving his hand over Hilde’s bare skin so she’s in her pants again. She’s still missing a boot, and slowly she slides off Loki’s lap to pick it up.

 

“How much of…er, of that did you witness?”

 

Korg seems to contemplate this for a second and walks over to the bar, grabbing the half empty bottle of blue liquor along with two shot glasses. “Oh, not a terrible terrible bunch, no, but enough that I know what’s going on.” And then the Kronan has the nerve to grin, his eyes sweeping over the two flustered Asgardians with a bit of glee. “Looks like the two of ya had a lot of fun yeah?” He chuckles and Hilde wants to sink into the floor. “But look, I won’t say a word, mates, on my honor you know? I’ll keep it under wraps.”

 

Loki nods enthusiastically, and shifts uncomfortably where he stands. “Uh, yes, thank you Korg that would be…kind of you.”

 

Korg salutes them and moves past towards the door, before turning and gesturing between them. “It’s nice to know the Prince has a lady now,” he says, a wee bit wistfully, and then he is out the mess and whistling down the hall.

 

Hilde raises a brow. “The Prince has a lady, huh?”

 

Loki says nothing, but the blush that spreads from his neck to his hairline makes her laugh more than anything he could have said does.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki dating Sif as preteens comes from @gaslightgallows amazing story The Convalescent Way. Go give it a read if you haven't already, it's amazing (as are all her stories, honestly). 
> 
> Come say hi on tumblr! I'm over there gushing about TLJ and Tom and Tessa, and I'm always down to chat. || lilithenaltum.tumblr.com


	9. interlude no. i

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an interlude, of sorts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is filth and fluff for the sake of filth and fluff  
> enjoy responsibly ;)

He lied. _He lied, he lied, he lied_...

 

He swore he wasn't going to do this again so soon but he's deep inside of her, in his bed, her arms stretched up to grab at the headboard and her ankles locked securely behind his back. She feels so good, so hot and wet and welcoming and she grips him every time he plunges deep, pulls back and does it again. There's a wicked grin on her face and her hips are angling up against his own that frantically thrust towards her center. This is his Valhalla, this is bliss and torture and everything he needs and wants right now. He doesn't even realize there are sounds coming from his throat, or that his fingers are grasping the sheets below him to the point of tearing them. No, all he knows is she's here and beneath him and open for him and he's so close, so very very close again but she hasn't cum yet-

 

"Cum for me Loki," she growls, and she clenches deep within her, drawing a choked out cry from the depths of his chest.

 

"Fuck," he groans, over and over until it is a battle cry and he's falling over the edge in a rush. The bed rocks underneath as he is chasing the feeling of her, the sweat slick of her lush skin, the heat of her body. He never wants to do anything else but make love to her and he doesn't even try to be quiet when he cums. Hilde doesn't bother covering his mouth either.

 

There's a silencing cloak on the room, after all.

 

For a few long minutes he can't move. He lays on top of her, shivering and boneless, and she smooths his hair with her fingers and strokes the back of his calves with her bare feet. He wonders what they look like right now, limbs tangled together, and imagines it's erotic and beautiful and powerful. Her chest is a steady rise and fall and her hands are a balm for every ache in his soul, and Loki swears he's falling in love and it's terrifying but dear god, he wants this. He wants her, he needs her, he won't ever leave if she lets him stay.

 

And then he remembers she hadn't cum this go round and he can not have that. Not his Valkyrie, not his Princess. She would probably smack him if she heard him say that aloud. "I'm no Princess, Lackey," she'd insist but she is, more than that even. He thinks, as he pushes himself up slowly, that he is the actual rightful heir and King of Jotunheim and if she wanted him she'd be his Queen. _Princess of Asgard, Queen of Jotunheim_. Loki is getting ahead of himself, he knows, but before he can think to broach that topic, he has to make her cum. It's only right, after all. 

 

Hilde protests a bit when he moves, because now he slips out of her and she has become fond of how he stretches and fills her. He wonders when she'll get tired of this body and want something else and then he grins because he can literally be whatever she needs whenever she needs. One day he'll ask her how she likes her women and he'll be that too. Either way, his tongue is a weapon of destruction and though he knows she is everything to him, he wants to destroy her in the best way. Her protests die on parted, gasping lips when he bites and sucks at the insides of her muscular thighs, the skin there salty and slick with sweat and a mix of him and her. He lets his mind drift to a day when she won't need the implant, when he doesn't worry about contraceptive spells and he can take her, have her, gift her with his child. He wants that, he decides, a baby that is as beautiful and wild as her mother (because a daughter would be good, he thinks, while parting her still swollen lower lips) and as cunning as he. She would be a force to reckon with, this girl child of his. His Frigga. _Frigga Lokidóttir_ , he thinks with a sinful grin and then swipes that devilish tongue of his up the center of her core and she jerks as if she'd been shocked.

 

They don't call him _Silvertongue_ for nothing. 

 

He has to physically hold her hips down because his tongue maps constellations and star systems on her clit and it's too much, she wails, but it isn't enough. She tastes so fucking good, almost as good as she looks and feels, and he is starving. It's been a long time since he's had the pleasure of devouring a woman like this, and it stirs him back to life just to hear her rambling, mindless pants of ecstasy. Every so often he pulls away and litters her thighs with bites and kisses; there will be a galaxy of love marks there and on her chest and he feels like a kid again, like a green boy with his first girlfriend. She is so sweet, especially when she's sobbing his name over and over the way she is, and he is panting as he pulls away. He slides his hands up her body, nails catching the skin of her torso like she likes. And then his fingers trace the edges of her lips before pressing forward so that she takes them into her mouth, greedily, sucking with dark hooded eyes that stare at him feverishly. Every swipe of her hot tongue against his fingertips sends a jolt of desire straight to his cock, and he's so hard that it aches. _Again_ , he could take her again and he's contemplating this, of stretching her out once more and pushing in deep and hard. But he needs to make her cum with his mouth first, before he can claim her with his body and so he takes those fingers, wet with her spit and just as talented as his Silvertongue, and slides them down between her legs, to the quivering heat of her, and pushes them inside. 

 

Her body twists off the bed and he grins, sliding back down to claim the rest of his meal. Between his mouth and his fingers she is splintering into tiny fragments of herself, and she can barely remember who or what she is, he is so good. She's crying, he thinks, because she's shaking and gripping his obsidian hair so tightly it hurts, but he likes it. He wraps his free arm around her hips and steadies her the best he can, but then she screams, body going taut like the string of a bow. Somewhere in that cry is his name and it sounds so so so good, so good he nearly cums right then. But he reels himself in, lets her ride out the orgasm on his lips and pulls his fingers out before sucking the salty sweet taste of her from them. She groans at the sight.

 

" _Loki_ ," she breathes, her voice ragged and raspy, and he grasps her waist, urging her to flip over. "Loki, what are you-" His mouth starts are fiery trail from the base of her spine, slowly, up to her shoulder blades and neck and then he is parting her thighs again, this time from behind. He'd have never thought his fierce Brunnhilde would let him have her this way, but she is anxiously wiggling her bottom toward him and he covers her body with his long lean one, sliding fingers through her slick cunt to find her clit. And then he is pushing home, his eyes rolling in the back of his head as he does and she grabs his thigh, pushing back toward him to take all of him inside her.

 

" _Brunnhilde_ ," he gasps out, losing himself in her body once again and decides, right there, that if she asked, he'd shake down the very stars for her.

* * *

 

Hilde likes having him curled around her like a child. It's comforting and warm and he's so peaceful like this. She's seen him when he's Prince of Asgard, when he's the smooth talking politician that helps to secure the safety and health of his displaced and grieving people. She's seen an opportunist, a actual kindred spirit to her own while on Sakaar, who used the fleeing but heated attentions of the Grandmaster to stay alive and get ahead and she was both impressed and disgusted by what he does and did to keep his head on his shoulders. And for a while she's caught glimpses of a broken, scarred man, someone who had craved love and attention and gotten the short end of both and she is sad for the little boy who wanted nothing more than the respect of his father and adoration of his mother, a place to belong. But right now, he is free of all those shackles and he is lying against her still heated flesh, his breath slowing to normal and his heartbeat thudding solidly in his chest. He is warm and alive, and he feels so good beside her. She wants to lay like this for hours and days, naked and sated, drinking wine and tea, hazy and lethargic in the afterglow of sex.

 

Her fingers curl into his sweat soaked hair and tugs then relaxes, over and over, and he rubs his cheek against her breast like a kitten. They say nothing and neither really need to; he says all he needs to with his eyes, the brilliant green staring up at her like she is the sun and it frightens her to see. Somewhere in the back of her mind she wonders if maybe she's managed to tame the God of Mischief himself, the only thing needed her body and wit, and it makes her grin. 

 

"What's got you so tickled, sweetheart?" he asks, and she bites her lip to keep her smile from splitting her face. He knows now, has to, that she loves how he calls her sweetheart, the term of endearment part sarcasm and part pure seduction. She's been hooked on it since the second he slipped her boot off in her room and took her foot into his elegant hands. 

 

"Just thinking," she responds, and twists so that she can better see his face. It's as if all the lines of worry and anxiety have fallen away from his eyes and mouth and he looks so young so that she feels almost guilty for metaphorically robbing the cradle. Almost. With a dick and a tongue like he has, she doesn't have any reason to feel bad about much of anything. She's suddenly curious to know how many people he's had in his bed. So she asks. He lazily props his head on his hand and slides his hands along her side.

 

"I honestly have lost count," he admits, and she chuckles. "I was expecting that," she says and his eyes gleam in the low light of his bedroom. "And you?" he asks, to which she raises a brow and shrugs nonchalantly. There's always been a double standard for men and women with this sort of thing. She hopes he won't care the way she knows other men would. 

 

"Three hundred, thirty four." 

 

"In two thousand years?" He seems a bit surprised at that, but she nods.

 

"I'm pickier than I look, Lackey," she teases, and he only hums contemplatively.

 

"I figured it'd be higher. You've quite the appetite." Hilde narrows her eyes, and even though there isn't any disgust in his voice at her number, she still isn't so sure that he isn't being a hypocrite about all of this just yet. She gets her answer right after. "Not that there's a thing wrong with that, of course," he continues, and bends his head to suck one of her nipples into his mouth. Her back arches from the bed slowly and while she's not quite ready to go again, it feels good. His mouth is hot and his teeth scrape gently against the tender skin there, a feeling that is equal parts good and primitive. She moans softly and he shifts beside her in the bed, pressing his body closer to hers, if that's possible. "I'm simply surprised you didn't take every opportunity your way. You could have anyone in the universe you want, Hilde."

 

She snorts. She could have a lot of people, she knows, but not everybody. Loki exaggerates when he's satisfied and feeling like this, whatever it is. Cared for? Safe? Wanted? She hopes so. She does care, despite herself, and he's safe here with her. She'd never judge his past deeds; she's done things some people would think are worse. And he's definitely wanted, the little bastard. She's wanted him all day.

 

"I told you," she says, trailing her fingers down his spine, "I'm pickier than you'd think. You made 334, by the way."

 

He grins. "I'm honored."

 

It's nice to have someone who doesn't think less of her for her sexual history. Then again, his seems to be more varied than her own. He tells her a few harrowing tales and a couple of tender ones, married women and betrothed men and everyone in between; people he's near fell in love with and a small, small handful he thinks he probably did love.

 

"In a fashion," he clarifies. "I'm not sure if I'm built to _truly_ love anyone." She says nothing to this for a while, but digests it and it makes her sad that he feels this way.

 

"Everyone is built to love, Loki," she says softly. "Even you." _Especially you_ , she wants to say, but his eyes crinkle as he smiles again and he is bending down to kiss her so she doesn't.

* * *

 

Hilde is too scared, at least right now, but she thinks one day, maybe when she's not so torn apart and bent, that she could definitely fall in love with this mess of a man. What she doesn't know is Loki has already fallen for her, hard and quick and his heart is in her small, calloused hands, beating wildly with adoration and worship and with one look he'd be at her feet.

 

But he won't tell her yet and she doesn't think to ask so, for right now, they pretend this is really just about the sex.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments make my day. :)  
> tumblr: lilithenaltum


	10. ix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki isn't used to these feelings, Hilde is probably in denial, and teenage girls understand the appeal of the God of Mischief.

When morning comes, they wake in his bed, sheets messy and sticky from their lovemaking hours before. He has slept better in the last five hours than he had in the last five years, and he is content in a way that he has never truly been before. Hilde is still asleep beside him, waves of dark brown hair covering her face and shoulders. She is tucked into his side and it feels so very right that he is loathing waking her. But it is nearly breakfast and she needs to wash and dress for the day so very gently he shakes her, chuckling when she mutters sleepily and pushes him away.

 

“Le’ me ‘lone,” she grumbles, pulling the sheet draped over her hip up to her eyes when he brightens the light of his room. “You’ve got training in two hours, sweetheart,” he says and she huffs, rolls over, and curls up tightly into a cozy little ball.

 

It’s adorable.

 

Instead of arguing, he snaps his fingers and a wash basin of warm water appears. A soft towel and the good soap she likes are on either side of it. He slips from the bed, naked but unashamed, and prepares her a soapy towel, then peels the sheets from her nude form, wiping the skin of her shoulders and arm gently. It is the most he can reach at the moment, as she still has a vice grip on the pillow she is snuggling but little by little, the warmth of the wet water loosens her limbs and she rolls over, allowing him to wash her chest and torso. She stretches out like a cat, her breasts rising and falling with each breath and he takes his time cleansing her. Hilde kicks the sheets down on her own and spreads her legs languidly, allowing him to dip his hands between them and wash her there.

 

She sucked in a breath as he cleansed more thoroughly and finally uncovered her face, her sleepy brown eyes gazing at him hungrily. “If you keep that up, Lackey, we won’t make it to breakfast.”

 

He smiled, swiping the towel over her hickey dotted thighs and then back up. If his fingers slipped past the terry cloth, it wasn’t entirely an accident. “I’m not doing anything, Hilde,” he responded, though he slowly guided her thighs open wider and let the towel drop to the ground. And then, all that was left were his fingers, warm and strong and sure, as they stroked and caressed her already aching core. “Or,” he murmured, as he presses his lips on the insides of her knees, “I wasn’t.”

 

Hilde only moans softly and arches her back from the bed, hands coming down to thread into his messy, tangled hair. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you, your Highness?” Her voice is breathy and trembling, and she makes the most delicious sounds when he slips two strong fingers into her warmth, curling them up and pressing on the spot he knows makes her shiver and shake.

 

“I haven’t,” he whispers, bending his head to nibble at the dip of her hips. “And I’m _so_ hungry.”

 

“Then we’d better let you feast,” she breathes out, her words swallowed with a gasp as he takes his first taste of the morning.

* * *

 

They skip first breakfast because after Loki eats her out the second time, Hilde decides she needs something more solid than his tongue and drags him to the floor, riding him roughly. Sometime in between the third and fourth round, she’s flipped over again and he loses himself between the cradle of her thighs, sliding down once he has reached his peak and drags her to another. And after the fifth orgasm, she is a little sore and raw and has to push his mouth away from her, though she’s laughing and her body feels like warm taffy. He licks his lips, his mouth wet with her and his eyes shining and she’s never seen anyone so enamored with her sex as he is. It’s endearing and honestly pretty hot.

 

But they actually need to eat now so she washes up again at the basin alongside him, and then allows him to redo her braids and remove the bite marks on her neck and breasts with seidr. It is a tingling feeling, much like what he did with her feet that first night and she asks him if it’s the same spell. “Similar,” he says, swiping his hands along her throat and down her chest tenderly. He towers over her and it only makes her feel safer and more secure that he could cover her if she needed him to. “Only this is a healing spell; that one was simply to relax and soothe.” He tilts her head, checking to make sure that his work is thorough and satisfied, presses a kiss to her forehead.

 

“What about the ones on my thighs?” she asks with a sly grin on her lips and he laughs richly, making her flesh tingle in delight. His laughs turn her on almost as much as his voice and hands do. “No one will see those, so no need. I wanted to leave you a souvenir.” He lowers his head to hers and his mouth is so close to her own she can taste his breath. “No one can see those but you and me…our little secret, yes?” She nods one time, just before he kisses her deeply, and when he pulls away she cannot help tracing where his mouth branded her so thoroughly.

 

It’s not until later, when they finally make it to second breakfast that she is made aware that their capes have been switched yet again. She’d almost instinctually taken his black and green and he’d taken her blue, clasping them on their shoulders and striding down the corridor towards the mess hall like twin flames. Neither of them had noticed the heads turning to stare, nor did they see Bruce Banner and Heimdall smile among themselves as they walked. They only had eyes for each other, laughing and talking as they walked. As it happens, it is one of Hilde’s own students-an astute, redhead girl named Lir-who notices that her trainer’s cape is different.

 

“Hm?” Hilde looks behind her, grasping the flowing fabric behind and lo and behold, it’s green and black and silky to the touch. “I guess you’re right, Lir,” she says, her face flushing a bit as she tucks the cape between her bottom and the bench. “Simply a mix up in laundry is all,” Loki supplies, and the girl blushes to be directly addressed by her Prince. “Of course, your Highness,” she demurs. “Just noticed something different.” He gives her a winning smile and she only turns redder, rivaling her hair for who is the most crimson. “No worries, darling, I understand. Although I must say, the Valkryior had fine taste.” He sweeps the cape behind him into his hands and slides long fingers over the finely tailored material. “Come,” he waves to Lir, and she glances to Hilde as if to ask permission. Hilde cannot help laughing at the girl’s expense, and she gives her student a brisk nod to obey. “Come sit, Lir,” she says sternly but kindly, moving over to make a space between herself and Loki.

 

“Can you guess what this is?” Loki asks, and lays the cape out so that Lir can see. She reaches out to touch the fabric before she can think, and then snatches her hand back, glancing up at her teacher, and then to the Prince for permission. Loki chuckles and extends his own hand to take her thin one and glides the girl’s fingertips over Hilde’s blue cape. Lir breathes out a soft breath and gives an awed “oh” at the texture, then looks back to Loki eagerly. “Cotton!” she says excitedly. “It’s cotton twill but…oh, I’ve never felt anything this fine before.” Hilde grins and catches Loki’s eye over the girl’s head. “You’re absolutely right, darling,” he purrs and Hilde thinks to herself that Loki has surely messed up now because Lir’s eyes are only for him and she’s star struck and spellbound. If that voice does things to _her_ , a grown woman, it definitely has done things for an impressionable young girl who is barely out her third century and only now aware of sexuality.

 

“You see, the Valkyries had their capes spun from something strong but elegant, and twill cotton was the perfect choice. Back then, before either you or I were born, the cotton was rough and unrefined, but there was a seamstress who could spin the most exquisite fabrics from even the most roughshod materials. Her name was-“

 

“Sigfrid!” Lir supplied, and then ducked her head in embarrassment at her outburst. “Sorry, your Highness,” she murmured.

 

Loki smiled. “Not a problem, my dear, I find your enthusiasm thrilling.” He clasped Lir’s shoulder and Hilde stifled a laugh at how the young girl melted into Loki’s touch. He was doing this on purpose, she knew now, to distract from their earlier problem. Clever little shit.

 

“Sigfrid was approached by the leader of the Valkryior to make them capes that would be a credit to their name and so she worked, night and day for weeks to produce a fabric fine but inexpensive and durable. And this,” Loki finished, tapping the cape once more, “is one example of her craftsmanship. It’s thousands of years old and still feels as new as the day it was spun and sewn.”

 

“And these capes were handmade by Sigfrid,” Hilde added, drawing Lir’s attention away from Loki who would have burst out laughing if he wasn’t trying to maintain some sense of dignity and power. “She handmade mine and I kept it wrapped and sealed for a long time until one day it was needed again.”

 

That wasn’t quite the truth; Hilde hadn’t thrown the cape away simply because she was a sentimental fool, and the tattered remnants of it (torn and ripped apart by Hela’s blades as it had been) were now wrapped about her sword. The cape Loki wore had been found in Odin’s vaults and was probably extra gear made for potential new recruits. Either way, Loki was right about one thing-the cape was just as soft and beautiful and bright as the one she’d owned had been when she first clasped it on her shoulders so long ago.

 

Lir was smiling in awe, her fingers tracing little circles in the soft cotton and then she glanced back to Loki. “How do you know so much about this cape, Lir?” he asks and she purses her lips before speaking.

 

“My father was a wool merchant,” she said, her young voice tremulous and sad. Hilde didn’t have to ask what happened to her father. She could see it written all over Lir’s face. “He taught me everything he knew about textiles and fabrics, taught me all about the legends too. And Mama was a seamstress and made all our clothes.” She smoothes her tunic down proudly. Lir’s father had to have been a very successful wool merchant, if the quality of her clothing were a telling sign. “Well, she still is a seamstress but after…” Lir trails off and then blinks furiously to hide her tears. Loki reaches out and takes the girl’s hand and squeezes it tightly. “He would be very proud of you, little Lir,” he says softly and Lir’s smile blossoms though tears fall over her rosy cheeks anyway. “Thank you,” she whispers and after quickly smiling at Hilde, she rushes off back to the table to her friends, where they wrap her in hugs and talk in hushed voices amongst themselves about her encounter with the Prince.

 

“You realize you’ve created a monster, don’t you?” Hilde asks him later, when breakfast is done and she is to head to training. He hasn’t anything pressing to attend to so he decides he’ll get some reading done.

 

“I haven’t a clue what you mean,” he says and really, he’s lying and she knows this because she’s seen how Lir had stared at him, over at the table where she sat the rest of the meal with her friends and the look in her eyes was pure adoration. Hilde rolls eyes and scoffs. “And I’m the one who’ll have to put up with that in fifteen minutes, not you.” He grins. “Would you have rather her keep questioning why her mistress in arms has the Crown Prince’s cape and vice versa? Or does the bubbling spring of new emotion distract her enough that she won’t put two and two together?”

 

She shrugs. “I knew what you were doing. I just don’t think you had to take it so far.”

 

“I was being myself.” Loki is already to his room and he pauses by the door, fiddling with his hands nervously.

 

“And therein lies our problem, your Highness.” Hilde leans against the wall and watches him curiously. “You’re too charming for your own good sometimes.” He can’t help but laugh though he is a little flattered, and he slowly unclasps her cape from his shoulders, reaches out to offer it to her. She looks confused for a moment and hesitates in accepting it.

 

“Blue looks much better on you, sweetheart,” he says quietly. “And besides, we don’t want any more suspicions raised, do we?” He seems a little sad about this and Hilde isn’t really sure why. Less talk means there’s less a chance anyone finds out about…

 

_Oh._

 

“You…don’t want this to be a secret do you?” she asks and he shrugs.

 

“It’s entirely up to you. This deal was made for your benefit, after all. And you wanted it to be kept discreet.” He moved closer to her and pressed the cape into her hands. “Everything moves according to your pace, Hilde.” He reaches to open the door to his room and slip inside, but she stops him with a hand on his forearm.

 

“I’m not…I don’t want you to think that I’m…um...”

 

She sighs and rubs her temples, then tries again.

 

“I don’t want you to think I’m _ashamed_ of anything we’ve done. I’m not.” He nods. “I believe you,” he says and it gives her the courage to continue.

 

“I just…I’m not ready for this-“and she points back and forth between the two of them. “-to be all in the open. That’s just asking for scrutiny and speculation and I really _really_ cannot handle that right now.” Loki is silent and he stares at her hands, but meets her eyes and there is something there that takes her breath away.

 

“So there is something there, then? Between us…there is a…'you and me' in some way?” He words the question as if he’s afraid of her answer and perhaps he is. She doesn’t want to tell him now though she knows she probably should. _Don’t get too attached, keep it fun, if it’s fun you can’t get hurt._ That’s what she’d done on Sakaar for years, even with partners she’d been fond of and had considered somewhat serious. But before she can open her mouth to clarify their situation he switches subjects.

 

“Have lunch with me.”

 

There is an unspoken request there other than eating but it isn’t carnal so she agrees though with a bit of trepidation. Maybe he’s severing the deal already…maybe he doesn’t want to do this any longer. She hopes, more fiercely than she thought she would, that she’s not right. When she says yes, there is relief in his eyes and he leans forward, tipping her chin up to meet his mouth as he presses a soft, chaste kiss on her lips.

 

She is still holding her cape when he closes the door to his bedroom. With a sigh, Hilde slings it over her shoulder and decides to stop by her room to deposit it, as well as gather a few a few of her blades to use for training. It is when she’s locking her room door, the blue cotton twill draped over her bed like a blanket and twin daggers in each hand that she realizes he hadn’t asked for his own cape back yet.

 

She smiles.

* * *

 

Loki is in too deep.

 

He knows as much as he breathes that he’s in way over his head and that it’s too late to pull back now.

 

Last night he’d thought to himself, in the throes of passion, that he was in love or at least falling. And then he thought, before he drifted off to sleep that night, perhaps it was the good sex that made him think that way. But he woke with her body curled beside his and he realized he never wanted to let her go. It scared him and thrilled him at the same time, and during breakfast, as he watched her eat and talk and laugh, he realized he was hopeless.

 

He was falling, and there was nothing there to catch him.

 

Lir’s comment about the capes had been a needed distraction from his thoughts. Loki knew he’d been staring at Hilde the entire time up to that point and he didn’t want to raise anyone’s suspicions. And yet, he wanted to shout it from the rooftops. _Look everyone, I’m falling in love with someone! She’s right here beside me polishing off bran muffins and eggs!_ He wondered what her reaction to that would be and chuckled at the thought, but then sobered when he thought back to their conversation in the corridor. She said wasn’t ready for more. And really, he couldn’t blame her. In order to love she’d have to trust and trusting him was probably the most unwise thing anyone could do. He didn’t really even trust himself. But he knew he would do everything within him to earn and keep her trust. He would do anything in the world she asked him, no matter the cost to himself. That was a powerful thought, and something he would have to keep close to his heart for the time being. He wanted her to know that his feelings had grown deeper but she wasn’t ready to hear just how deep and he wasn’t ready to tell her. Besides, what if they changed? What if this really was just a side effect of really good sex and all the chemicals that came with it?

 

Loki let out a frustrated sigh and walked over to grab his book on the nightstand. Last night, he’d made love to Hilde in his bed and the sheets still smelled like her, like him, like sweat and lust. He was loathed to change them now, but he could at least make the bed up some and so he straightened the wrinkled linens, fluffing his pillows and covering everything up tidily with the comforter. Once he was done he collapsed in the bed and leaned back against the headboard, intending only to rest his eyes for a second but he is startled moments later by sharp knocks at the door.

 

He jerks up from the bed and stumbles to open the door, rubbing a crick in his neck along the way. His mouth is dry and his eyes feel heavy and he wonders for a second how much time has passed. Hilde stands on the other side of the door, a tray on her hip and he blinks down at her in confusion. "I...hello? Training done already?"

 

She gives him an odd look. "Uh...yeah...training and lunch as well." She pushes past him and sets the tray down on his coffee table. Loki groans, closes the door behind him, and begins to apologize. "I am so sorry, Hilde," he begins. "I sat down when I got in and was planning on reading and maybe resting for a bit and-" 

 

Hilde holds her hand up and sits in the plush chair beside the tray. "I know. I actually looked around for you earlier but no one had seen you and your door was still locked so I figured you'd drifted off. It's okay." She gives him a wry grin and he feels better but only a little. He'd planned for lunch to be better than snacks in his bedroom. "Besides, I took a little nap myself, once I finished training. So I don't blame you." And then she lifts the towel from the tray, revealing sandwiches and bowls of soup, dried fruit and a delicious looking layered spice cake. His stomach rumbles and he sits at her bequest, snagging a few pickled peppers to pop in his mouth while she makes her sandwich.

 

They eat and she chats about how training went, about how the girls couldn't stop talking about breakfast and Lir's newfound crush on Prince Loki. She takes a swig of lemon water and Loki listens, amused. "It's probably a good thing you didn't watch today. I'd have gotten nothing done with your little fanclub." 

 

"Fanclub?" He laughs heartily at the thought, but Hilde only scoffs and waves her half eaten sandwich around for dramatic effect. "I'm serious!" she says, and he tries to hide his smile but he can't. The thought of a group of teenage girls enamored with him tickles him greatly. "I swear that's all I heard, Prince Loki this and Prince Loki that. Lir kept gushing about how much you knew about the cape and then Karsi goes on and on about your...your cheekbones, I don't even know. Then the whole gaggle of them are whispering in the corner about thighs and hands and some other shit and I just..."

 

She pauses in her tirade to find Loki beet red and shaking from laughter so deep he nearly knocks over his own glass of water. Hilde lets out a breath and then laughs along with him, because it really is funny, and if she's being honest, kind of cute. She remembered being that young, though, with some bitterness that she had skipped the teenage crush phase. She'd been too busy surviving to really have time for that.

 

Loki most have noticed her change in mood because he sobers up and wipes tears from the corner of his eyes, smoothing his face into a neutral expression.

 

"I'll be sure to drop by for your next class, then," he says, if only to get her to smile again, and she does though it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "What's wrong? What did I do?"

 

Hilde snorts. "You're such an arrogant ass. Everything isn't about you."

 

He smirks. "But I did do something, didn't I? That's my thing. I'm always doing something." He trails off, plucks another pepper from the tray. "Or someone," he continues and waggles his dark brows. And she only shakes her head, but the smile deepens at least and that's all he wants, to make her smile.

 

"No I just...had a moment." He waits for her to continue but she isn't in the mood for it right now. And maybe it's not his place for her to tell, maybe she'll save that for her next appointment with Bruce. She plasters a smile on her face and waves it off. "I'll tell you about it another time." He looks as if he wants to prod but he drops it, thankfully, and goes back to eating. After a while, when the silence is too much and her head is in a million different directions, she speaks again.

 

"Why do you do that?" she asks, and he tilts his head. "Do what?" His voice is soft and gentle and she gestures toward him.

 

"That. Speak to me like that, look at me like that." 

 

He swallows audibly, and then is silent for a long while, as if he needs time to gather his thoughts. She wonders what's racing through his head right now and would give anything to read his mind. 

 

"I wasn't truly aware I was doing anything differently. Does it bother you?"

 

Hilde stops to think for a moment and she wants to tell him truthfully-that his kind voice and his soft eyes and his gentle touch are breaking down barriers that she aren't ready to let fall, now or even ever. But instead she does what she does best. She deflects. "Not at all, just curious. You're a million different people depending on your mood and I'm wondering when I'm going to get one of your rambling psychotic rants directed my way." There's humor in  her voice and he, fortunately, catches it, so that he only rolls his eyes and sighs dramatically.

 

"You've been talking to Bruce too much. And I only save those kinds of rants for stubborn Midgardians who can't grasp the concept of kneeling."

 

She's about to make a slick innuendo comment about kneeling when hr abruptly stands and takes the near empty tray and towel from the coffee table.

 

"I'll take this back to the kitchen. Feel free to sit, if you'd like, I promise you aren't a bother."

* * *

 

He has to get out of the room or he's going to start talking and not stop and he can't tell her now, it's way too soon, it's not right. He's probably been half in love with her since he first saw her and it's turned into a full-blown virus now.

The kitchen is blissfully empty and so he lingers for a while, dumping his trash and scraps and cleaning his own dishes. Unbecoming of Princes or not, it settles his nerves some. Loki doesn't want her thinking he doesn't enjoy her company, not when the real reason is the exact opposite. He's acting like a teenager with a crush and it makes his stomach twist. Filling a clean glass with more cool water he sips slowly and thinks about how to approach this situation. Hilde isn't in any hurry to romance anything or anyone, and he needs to respect those boundaries but also keep her interested. Sex doesn't hurt, he's sure, neither does conversation and shared interests, of which they surprisingly have several. But maybe he needs to dial the chivalry down. The deal was meant to ease her mind and distract her from her nightmares and panic attacks; if he's going to do this right, he'll have to adjust the rule book. There has to be some sort of guidelines because he knows if he doesn't get a handle on himself, he'll slip up and confess everything, and he'll ruin any chance he has to win her over.

 

This is it, he thinks. This is truly what playing for keeps is about. Patience is a virtue and one he's had in the past. He simply must watch and wait.

 

And, he thinks sourly, if she never reciprocates, at least it won't be for lack of trying on his part.

 

After another few minutes to clear his mind he goes back to his room and finds she has dragged a chair to to his bed, and is reading the book he had left on his nightstand. It's a novel by a classic Vanir author, a murder mystery and horror with just the right dash of romance. It's one of his absolute favorites and is conjured, something Hilde comments on when he walks in. "It feels weird," she says, and he sits on the bed beside her. "It's not a real book," he explains and then snaps his fingers so that it disappears like smoke. She opens her mouth to protest but then laughs when he snaps once more and it reappears. "How do you do it? Conjure an entire book, I mean."

 

"I have to have read it," he says, and she flips through some of the pages. "I've read that particular one so many times I know it word for word." 

 

"The entire thing?!" she asks, and flips to the back of the book to see how many pages are in it.

 

"973, if one doesn't count the appendices," he offers and she raises a brow.

 

"Impressive. So...this is literally the story from your memory?" She whistles and flips back to the page she was on, near the very beginning and starts reading a little aloud. When he picks up on every other sentence, and finishes the paragraph with a grin, she can't help laughing and it tugs at something deep within him.

 

He wants to make her laugh every single day he lives.

 

"You're such a scholar, Lackey," she teases. "It's quite attractive, I must say." He nods regally and gestures for her to keep reading. "Go on," he urges. "At least finish that chapter. I actually think you'll like this one." She pauses for a second and then looks down at the book. 

 

"If this is from memory, I'm reading your mind, aren't I?" The idea that she can get into his head must be damn near irresistible and he'd wanted her to figure this out, if only to hear her lovely voice reading one of his favorite pieces of literature. The grin that splits his face is probably embarrassingly earnest, but he can't really care. "In a round about way, yes."

 

She licks her thumb and turns back to the first page, settling in the chair comfortably and Loki turns up the lights a bit so she can better see.

 

"In that case, allow me to start at the very beginning."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love and so are you! come say hi on tumblr (lilithenaltum) or chit chat with me right here in the comments. I love hearing from you.


	11. x

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of Hilde's students confide in her; Hilde is shocked at how much Asgard has retrogressed in some areas. Loki shows an explicit amount of trust in Hilde.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the tags have been updated.

“Alright, alright! Water break, everyone. You’re doing well, but we’ve got a long way to go.”

Bright, cheerful calls of “yes mistress” echoed through the training room and the thirty girls she mentored scattered to the corners to drink their fill and rest for fifteen minutes before the next hour block.

Training was proceeding swimmingly given the circumstances, but Hilde knew that she was going much easier on her girls than Freya had on her years and years ago. Call it sentiment for the displaced young women or maybe an understanding that sometimes crueler wasn’t the best technique, but her students, though worked to their limits on most days, didn’t seem to mind at all the endless and repetitive drills she put them through. In fact, all of them seemed to flourish under the guidance and she’d never been more proud.

She hoped that Mother would have been proud of her as well.

The thought was bittersweet and a little painful but Hilde tried not to stow those feelings away. Bruce had taught her that sometimes thinking on old memories and allowing her feelings to swirl inside her freely for a brief time was helpful. It supposedly discouraged pent up emotions, something that could possibly be contributing to her awful nightmares and panic attacks. And maybe he was right. Though he always clarified that this was his own personal method of dealing with trauma, he offered her several suggestions and options and she found in following them that she showed some signs of improvement.

She had a better handle on the panic attacks, at least. A few would creep up under her skin but Bruce had taught her techniques to delay, deal with and even stop them. And while she still had a nightmare every few days, they weren’t nearly as terrifying as they’d been since before Loki.

Thinking of Loki took her mind off of Freya and her past but it also made her frustrated.

She couldn’t really get a grip on what his motive was, or if he even had a motive. She hadn’t gone into this deal with him naively; and Loki had admitted that his altruism wasn’t entirely selfless. But she was confused why he had slacked off in his attentions. Of course, he was there when she needed him, practically showing up whenever she snapped her fingers to braid her hair or massage her sore muscles. In fact, he pampered her more than ever, bringing her fresh breakfast in bed after a nightmare, making sure her armor and sword were shined and cleaned, catering to her every silly whim and want. Once she’d asked, out of amusement more so than actual need, for him to hand feed her bits of marmalade and toast, and without questioning, he’d done it, even grinning as he did so.

“Do you need anything else, sweetheart?” he’d asked, when she had gorged herself on the sweet jam and bread, sucking the remnants from his long fingers. Her eyes had fluttered up meet his and for a second she thought she saw desire and need so intense there that she scooted forward in the bed and parted her knees ever so slightly. But then he was pulling his hand away and straightening up the mess left by bread crumbs and sticky marmalade and the moment slipped away like a fish.

And he’d been doing that for two weeks now. The last time he’d so much as touched her, outside of combing her hair or kneading her shoulders, had been the morning after the night Korg caught them in the mess hall together. And while she wouldn’t go so far as to say she was addicted to him (or his mouth, or his fingers, or his body) she would at least admit that she was left aching and wanting most nights now. She went to bed in her bed and woke up in her bed, alone, wrapped in warm blankets and completely comfortable save for the lack of a lean and strong body beside her.

It had been a long time since she’d slept beside anyone, and she’d expected to be put off by the idea. In fact, her plan that first night, after her she’d gotten what she needed, was to retreat back to her own bedroom and fall asleep blissfully. She’d wanted to be worn out and sated, not curled around Loki spilling her heart out and crying on his chest. And she’d completely recoiled at the idea of doing that all over again; she figured talking to Bruce (who she could trust completely) would suffice. But Loki was a balm to her spirit in ways she hadn’t anticipated and though he hadn’t attempted to make love to her once more since the last time, he had listened patiently and carefully whenever she talked about her makeshift therapy sessions or any of her less painful memories of her service in the Valkyrior. He never pushed her to speak of Gunnr, but somehow she always ended up talking about her anyway, and Hilde could not deny how much it help to talk about her first love to someone who didn’t judge and who wanted to genuinely know more.

 

Loki wasn’t the asshole she’d thought he was and she didn’t like how that made her feel.

 

Before she knew it, her musing had taken up the entire fifteen minutes and with about thirty seconds to spare, Hilde hopped up to guzzle her own water, then stretched the kinks out of her shoulders and hamstrings. One more hour and then it was lunch time and after that she had the rest of the day to do absolutely nothing if she wanted, though she knew she’d more than likely spend it reading the murder mystery Loki kept conjured up for her, wrapped up in her bed and alone.

 _Again_.

She sighed, then hoisted her staff up and called the class to attention.

“Okay, ladies. Let’s get into formation!”

* * *

 

She took lunch with her students, listening to them chatter and talk like girls do. It made her incredibly nostalgic but she was pleased that the memory of doing the exact same thing in her youth didn’t make her as sad as it previously would have. Progress was always a good thing. She chimed in every now and again with a few stories, ones she knew were rowdier than anything the girls had ever heard or lived through and by the end of the meal, she’d burst into laughter several times and smiled a lot more than she had in a long time. Hilde promised them she’d tell more stories at lunch the next day, so long as they did as well at training as they had today. The girls all agreed and got up to leave. Lir and her best friend, the blonde Karsi, both lingered and Hilde could see a question forming on the red haired girl’s tongue.

 

“Did you need to ask me something, Lir?” Hilde asked, dumping her tray of trash into the appropriate receptacle and taking her dishes to the kitchen to be washed. Lir twiddled her thumbs, shrinking back as if she had changed her mind, but Karsi gently pushed her forward anyway. “Ask her, Lir!” she whispered, pressing her hand to Lir’s back as she did so. Lir bit her lip and then launched forward into a long, nervous string of a sentence that Hilde only just made out.

 

“Howdidyouknowyoulikedgirlstoo?!”

 

Hilde blinked. “Run that by me again?”

 

The young girl swallowed and turned red, sucking in a deep breath to steady herself. Hilde took pity on her and put a shoulder around Lir’s shoulders. “Slower, so my old ears can keep up. Whatever it is, you know I won’t judge, right?”

 

Well, at least she wouldn’t try to judge.

 

“I…um…well, you kinda told us a few stories about…about your sisters-“

 

“May they all dine well in Valhalla,” Karsi mumbled reverently.

 

“Right. And you mentioned a girlfriend and we all…well, we figured out you like girls and I know you’re kinda um…you have a thing with the Midgard healer, yeah?”

 

Hilde nearly burst into peals of laughter, but settled for a smile and bit her tongue. Her and Bruce? Oh goodness. The thought wasn’t entirely unwelcome, and Hilde was definitely fond of the scientist, but what they had was platonic in every sense, even if Hilde did think he wasn’t lacking in attractiveness. But if it kept anyone from finding out about her little dalliances with Loki...

 

“I’m fond of Bruce, yes,” she settled for and then Lir’s face seemed to perk up, her nervousness slipping away as she became more assured in what she was saying.

 

“Well, I was wondering how you knew that you liked both. Like, was it…was it always something you knew or were you kinda…questioning for a while?”

 

Hilde opened her mouth to say something but was a bit taken aback by the girl’s question. If she were truly honest, she could safely say she had known as a girl, but it wasn’t really something she had given much attention to until her adolescence, when she still pick pocketed in the square and frequented the pub down from her small apartment. It was there that Hilde had really had time to develop any sort of attraction to anyone, and she had never really given much thought to the fact that she liked both the barmaids as well as the male patrons. It was just something that was, and Hilde knew for a fact she wasn’t the only person who liked both. It was only when she began developing feelings for Gunnr did she really begin scrutinizing her sexuality enough to give any question to it.

 

It was times like this that she really did miss Mother. Freya had preferred both men and non men and, if Hilde was remembering right, had actually expressed that she had no set preference at all. _“I find pleasure and companionship wherever I want, Brunnhilde,_ ” she’d said, and Mother had never swayed from taking lovers and long term partners of any gender. And no one had ever given Freya any kind of grief over such a thing, so Hilde had always felt that there wasn’t anything at all wrong with how she was. For whatever reason, though, she got the impression that maybe that was no longer the case. If so, that was something that definitely needed to be remedied.

 

And so Hilde invited the girl into her room to talk. Karsi (who had come for moral support) and Lir curled up beside each other on the foot of her bed and Hilde sat on the head of it. She didn’t have tea or coffee or cookies to offer them, but they didn’t seem to mind, as they cooed over the lush blankets she had piled on the mattress and even the pile of books Hilde had borrowed from Loki. After a little small talk, Hilde asked Lir when she began feeling like she had and the girl gave her a dreamy smile.

 

“Well, you know how I feel about Prince Loki, right?” Hilde chuckled. “Everyone knows how you feel about him,” she responded, and Lir blushed. “Well, okay, but like…I feel like that about a girl too.” Hilde nodded. “Is it someone I know? One of the other students in training?” She was quiet for a while, then glanced at Karsi and nodded. “Yeah…it’s Hertha. I don’t know, I just…whenever she’s around me I get all tongue tied and she’s so pretty and she’s so good and fierce.”

 

Hertha was one of Hilde’s best students and probably lead candidate as captain of the new group. She was also incredibly beautiful, with short dark hair, olive skin, and deep almond shaped eyes. She was at least two centuries older than Lir; Hilde knew what it was like to feel completely enamored with an older, more experienced woman. She smiled, and took Lir’s hand in her own.

 

“Are you afraid she won’t like you back, then?” Hilde asked, and Lir nodded, worrying her bottom lip raw. “I’m not exactly her type I don’t think,” she said dejectedly. “I’m short and I’m young and I’m not…I’m not as _worldly_ as she is.” Again, Hilde had to stifle a laugh, as she didn’t want the younger girls to think she was making fun of them. It was only in retrospect did she realize how young she must have sounded to Mother, to Herja and Kara too. But she would follow their example; neither of them had ever laughed at her worries and she would never laugh at Lir’s. “That isn’t necessarily always the defining factor in whether someone would be interested in you,” Hilde said. “While I think you’re a beautiful girl, and smart to boot, what’s really important to know is if Hertha feels the same. Is she attracted to you for whatever reasons? It could be physical, it could be your personality or your attitude. And the only way you’d know is if you asked. Do you ever even talk to her?”

 

Lir shook her head morosely. “I’m too scared to! I’m afraid she’ll think I’m stupid and beneath her.” Hilde didn’t think that Hertha would be so cruel. She was a tough woman but also kind from what Hilde had seen of her. “You’ll have to work the courage up to approach her, Lir. Even if it’s just to ask her to lunch, or to get to know her. Perhaps try approaching her as friend first?” Karsi nodded in agreement. “Yeah, she could come sit with us tomorrow and we can all just talk about whatever. Doesn’t have to be anything romantic yet.” But Lir still hesitated and Hilde deduced that there was something a little deeper than the fear of being rejected.

 

“What does your mother think?”

 

And when Lir opened her mouth, her face crumpling and tears gathering in her eyes, Hilde knew the answer. Her suspicious were right; for all the so called progress Asgard had made after her departure, it had back slid tenfold in other things. In her time, no one really cared who you loved or took to bed, so long as everything was consensual and everyone was unspoken for. And even in the latter case, extramarital affairs were tolerated and in some relationships, pursued. While she’d been nothing but faithful to only Gunnr, three of her sisters had lived in a happy polyamorous relationship and two of the sisters had permission from the third to take others to their beds as well. It was a less bigoted time than the present it seemed. And Hilde’s heart ached for the young girl. She’d only ever had to deal with uncertainty on Asgard and perhaps keep her guard up on Sakaar. She’d not have to worry about being disowned by her own mother for loving another girl.

 

Hilde was _angry_.

 

“You don’t have to tell her if you don’t want, Lir. You get to decide when and how people find out and if they ever do. I realize she’s your mother, and that she may love you, but parents aren’t infallible. Don’t ever let her tell you something is wrong with you or that you are somehow broken because of how you love. Don’t ever.” She pulled the crying girl into her arms and hugged her tightly, then drew Karsi to her as well. The two girls were practically sisters and Hilde was glad that Lir had someone so steadfast in her corner.

 

Lir raised her head from Hilde’s shoulders and gave a weak, but grateful smile. “Thank you so much, Mistress,” she said softly, wiping her eyes. “I love Mama. I know she doesn’t…she means well, for her I suppose…Papa wouldn’t have cared, he’d have wanted me to be happy however. It hasn’t been the same since he died though. Mama wants me to marry well. She didn’t even want me to train but she said…she said maybe it’ll help keep me busy till Midgard. And she keeps saying how we’ll need to repopulate and that it is my chore to-“

 

“She’s wrong!” Karsi said suddenly. “You don’t _even_ _want_ little ones, Lir, don’t make your mama force you into something you don’t want!” Hilde squeezed the blonde haired girl’s hand and smiled, then looked Lir in the eye. “She’s right. If you’ve no mind for children, or at least not in the present, then don’t allow anyone to force you to be something you’re not.” She paused for a second, and stared distantly at her sword that lay propped up beside her bedpost.

 

“And that goes for everything else in life.”

 

* * *

 

“Sounds as if it were a different atmosphere back then,” Loki said thoughtfully.

 

Hilde had given him a thorough rundown of her conversation with Lir and Karsi that afternoon, ranting and angry when talking about Lir’s mother and her distaste for same sex love. Loki’s own eyes were sad and his mouth bitter and Hilde realized that her lover wasn’t that much older than her girls were, and that he’d grown up in the same environment. It only made her angrier. He promised her that Thor and his mother had tried to shield him as much as possible from any bigots who didn’t understand his nature, but that Lir couldn’t be protected from her mother’s ignorance completely. Hilde swore, though she agreed, that she’d do whatever she could to be a source of comfort and understanding to Lir, and to any of her girls.

 

 _Her girls_ …she wasn’t sure when she’d begin thinking of her trainees as hers but they were now and there wasn’t anything that could change that. She didn’t want it to. She could only imagine Freya’s sly, knowing smile if she knew. _Do you know, Mother? Can you see me? Do I make you proud?_

 

“I just wish things would change,” she said and Loki walked to where she stood, and then wrapped his arms about her. She sighed and leaned into him, missing the way he held her like this and the warmth of his body. He towered over her considerably and she found it both endearing and arousing. Perhaps she had a little bit of a size kink she didn’t know about until now.

 

“I never told Mother the truth about myself,” he said suddenly, and the rumble of his velvet voice resonated through his chest into her back. “She seemed to have simply... _known_. Thor found out quite by accident; he caught me leaving the bed of a mutual friend and was rather nonplussed about it. It was nice to have them to talk to…the Asgard I grew up in was…well, there really wasn’t talk of such things. People did it, sure, but it wasn’t really tolerated and everyone sort of…” He cleared his throat, and started over. “To be a boy, and love another was something that happened. It was understood and expected. After all, boys trained together, they grew together. They played and became men together. It wasn’t considered unusual that two would want to couple. But under no circumstances was it to extend past that, past youth…you didn’t become a man and still love another. You sowed your seed through the cosmos and sired a million bastards and married but you didn’t…”

 

He is quiet for a another long moment to catch his thoughts, and then he starts once more, but his voice is angry and ragged and Hilde could feel the hurt, though it is no doubt centuries removed. She thinks that he relates to Lir’s plight more than she can, but she doesn’t speak now. She lets him talk.

 

“Odin found out through a rumor. He confronted me about it and really, why should I lie? Why would I hide who I was with him? He was my father, or so I thought, so why would I need to tell him anything but the truth?” He scoffed violently. “I was wrong. He told me that if he caught me so much as touching another man again, he’d rend me in two. And I believed him. He was Odin Allfather and he could have me struck down dead if he so chose. He had Thor, anyway, who was all man and only lusted for maids and had no use for other men, not the way his second rate son did. Mother tried telling me later that Oidn was scared for me, but I knew she only was trying to sooth my hurt. He meant me harm. I know he did.”

 

Hilde turned in his arms and wrapped her arms about his middle, rubbing circles on his back and pressed her face into his heaving chest. It was a long while before he stopped shaking and when he finally did she looked up, his eyes weary and red rimmed, and realized he had been silently crying. The memory of his father’s hatred still wounded him. Hilde wished she could leach that poisonous memory from him and make things right but she knew she couldn’t. She wasn’t sure if anything would ever truly heal that kind of pain.

 

“He did apologize, later,” Loki finally said. His voice was low, his breathing steady now. “Much later. But he did. He told me then he’d overreacted. I never forgave him for that. I don’t imagine that I really should, no matter what Mother tried telling me. I simply left that alone and made sure he never caught wind of anything I did from then on.” He pulls away, almost reluctantly and holds Hilde at armslength, looking at her with uncertainty on his face. His lips pressed into a line and then, almost as if he had made his mind up about something, he let her go and took a step back.

 

“I can trust you.”

 

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement, an absolute and Hilde felt overwhelmed with his trust in her. She knew, though that whatever he was going to say or do next was important and so she nodded.

 

“You can trust me.”

 

“Good. Because I never told _anyone_ else about this. Thor may have an inkling, I think. Mother knew because I showed her…Mother was the only one who ever knew.”

 

He drew in a breath and closed his eyes briefly, then, with a soft shimmering golden light, he was now a she.

 

Hilde blinked, once then twice…and then smiled. The woman in front of her was elegant and tall, slim and beautiful, with pale pale skin and rosy lips. Her straight hair hung in a onyx curtain, nearly to the small of her back, and was braided ornately about her head. She looked every inch a queen, spine straight and regal, and Hilde took one of her slender hands into her own.

 

“Are you...more yourself, like this?” Hilde asked her and Loki didn’t know whether to speak or not. Instead, she nodded, tears springing into her green eyes again and she laughed, a laugh so beautiful that Hilde thought it rivaled that of him. “No more, no less. I just am, sometimes,” she said, her voice a lovely lilting thing, and yet, she still sounded like Loki. 

"Sometimes?" Hilde asked, a bit confused but curious. "This is you, and so is..."

 

“Yes. It’s me, it’s part of me. Some days this is who I am and others…other days I am as I were just before." She shrugged, but the smile never left her face and there was so much relief in her eyes that HIlde nearly began to cry herself. "I'm always Loki, no matter how I present that day. Different from what you've seen, I know...but sweetheart, it’s _me_.”

 

“Then that’s all that matters,” Hilde said, and pressing her small hand to Loki’s cheek, tiptoed up and captured her lips with her own.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I did this chapter justice.  
> Come say hi on tumblr or chat with me here in the comments. <3


	12. xi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hilde and Lady Loki bond a bit more, she starts to realize her feelings for Loki, and there's a first time for everything...even for a Valkyrie.

They had fallen asleep tangled up together in Hilde’s sheets after talking for the better part of the night. Hilde usually slept in the nude or, more recently, the tunic that Loki had allowed her to borrow. For tonight she slid on the tunic over her underthings, then dug out a soft pair of trousers and a cotton bra, handing them to Loki. Loki had turned her back while she chattered away and changed quickly, hopping on one leg as she slid into the too short, too wide pants and Hilde tried to hide the hurt on her face but wasn’t quick enough. Loki was tying the bra clumsily and allowed Hilde to assist.

 

“I don’t wear these usually,” she said, and then turned, grasping Hilde’s face with her hand gently. “And don’t take that the wrong way,” she said softly, gesturing to her sleeping clothes. “I trust you, I do…I’m just not…ready for that quite yet.” Hilde nodded. She understood. She just needed to be patient and whenever Loki was ready…

 

“I’m simply being a brat,” Hilde said by way of explanation and smiled into Loki’s mouth when she kissed her deeply.

 

 Loki had never spent the night in Hilde’s bed and teased her while draping the blankets over them. “I’m not used to such squalor,” Loki had said, yawning as she did, her green eyes crinkling happily in the corners. Hilde snorted at the comment. “All of us aren’t pampered royalty accustomed to expensive sheets”, she said, and slid down into the warm bed, tucking one arm underneath her pillow and wrapping the other about Loki’s waist. It felt just as natural as when she’d done it before, only this body was softer and the chest she rested against was different. But she was right; she was still Loki and that’s all that mattered to Hilde.

  

They were quiet for a beat, and then Hilde asked, before she got too drowsy to articulate the question correctly.

 

“Do you prefer men or women in this form?”

  

Loki hummed in thought. “I don’t prefer men or women at all really. I like them…both…all the time? If that makes sense.” She glanced at Hilde and smoothed a bit of long hair out of her face. “It’s weird, isn’t it?”

 

Hilde shook her head.

 

“Oh gracious, no! You didn’t get to know Freya, or you’d have thought differently. That was as natural to her as breathing. I don’t think Mother had a preference period.”

 

Loki nodded and smiled. “I think we’d have had something in common then,” she responded. “And you?”

 

Hilde thought for a second, to past lovers and dalliances. “I think it depends on my mood. I like both, of course, but sometimes I really just want one or the other. And occasionally, I could do with either or. Hell, I've had moments where I want both at the same time." She grins at a particular memory. "But I usually do have a preference most days. I don’t switch so often.” She paused for a second. “Not that there’s a thing at all wrong with that, you know.”

 

Loki smiled. “Oh I know. It’s so nice to talk to someone who understands that. My brother, as much as he tries to understand, doesn’t quite get it.”

 

“Does Thor have any other proclivities besides a fair maiden with high tits?”

 

Loki snorted gracefully, if that was possible. “He does, though I don’t think it’s very often. And perhaps not at all now. When we were younger we once managed to sleep with the same man without knowing. We only found out because he caught me leaving his room. You know, that’s how he found out I liked both men and women. And he was so blasé about it, as if it was…natural and okay and nothing at all wrong with it.”

 

Loki is quiet for a long moment and when she speaks again her voice cracks. “He stood up for me when Odin raged at me about my nature. He and Mother, but him the fiercest right then. I understand Mother’s position, how she was stuck between her loyalty to her husband and King and the love she had for me…but Thor was young and hot headed and incredibly stupid sometimes. And he threatened to strike Odin down were he to ever harm me. It was honestly the most terrifying thing I’d ever seen, really-Odin hovering over me as I sobbed and Thor standing above me, ready to take the blow for me.”

 

“What happened?” Hilde whispered. Loki turned to her and blinked furiously. “Odin stormed off, red as beet jelly and Thor collapsed beside me, terrified and shaking. And Mother scooped us both up and took us to her rooms and we curled up beside her like children and cried. I guess, in a lot of ways, we still were children. But he was so brave, my brother, always have been. I wonder now why I ever doubted that he really loved me.” Hilde didn’t know, at first, what to say to that, so she stroked the skin of Loki’s waist comfortingly.

 

Then: “You both forgot how much you loved each other, I think,” she said. “And really, you were both very brave.” She thinks for a second how she would have dealt with a father who reacted like that and doesn’t know what her own reaction would have been. Ivar was a cruel man but wasn’t around long enough to know his daughter’s habits or her proclivities. In that way, maybe she’d been fortunate.

 

“I didn’t feel so brave,” Loki mutters, nuzzling her nose into Hilde’s hair.

 

“Oh, you were, sweetheart,” Hilde says reassuringly. “You were.”

 

Loki kissed her forehead and grinned widely. “You called me sweetheart,” she said. “That’s my word!”

 

Hilde pressed her lips together to smother her own smile but couldn’t. “It seemed to fit,” she responded. “You are awfully sweet like this.”

 

Loki grasped Hilde’s hands and kissed her fingers. “It’s hard to be anything but sweet when you look like _this_ ,” she said and chuckled. Hilde rolled her eyes.

 

“But why do you never call me that when I’m him?” And she pouted, so prettily that Hilde wanted to both smack her and kiss her.

 

“Because it doesn’t fit. You’re Lackey, as him. You’re sweetheart, as her.”

 

And somehow, through all of it, she and he were both…her Loki. The very thought of that made Hilde’s stomach knot up and so she spoke quickly before she could begin to panic.

 

“Do you only call _me_ sweetheart because of our deal?” Hilde asked and Loki shook her head, her grin softening into something tender that made Hilde’s heart thump pleasantly.

 

“Not at all. I simply find you endearing and thusly, you are my sweetheart.” Hilde laughed a bit but the statement made her breath shake.

 

“You find me endearing? I tried to kill you the first few times we ever met and routinely insulted you the first few weeks we were on this ship.” Loki yawned again and Hilde made a mental note to perhaps quit asking so many questions when her lover was so sleepy.

 

“Eh, it wasn’t anything I didn’t deserve. In fact, I think it may be why I…hm.” She trailed off as Hilde leaned up and pressed a soft, slow kiss to her mouth and then lay back, closing her eyes contentedly.

 

“Go to sleep, Loki,” Hilde whispered. “I’ll be here in the morning.”

* * *

  

Loki was also there in the morning but it was _him_ again and Hilde was both a bit disappointed but also relieved. She was sure that she’d be in bed alone again, the same way she’d been for two weeks now, but there he was in the flesh, splayed across her bed with long legs entwined in the sheets and his arm haphazardly above his head.  She had missed waking up with his overly warm body hogging the bed, draped over her like a willow tree. It was nice to have him here, even if she did wish she could have more of _her_.

 

Lady Loki, as she referred to her in her mind, had grown on her so quickly that it should have been criminal. Hilde thinks that perhaps if she’d met her first, things would have been a bit different between them. Maybe she’d have fallen a lot faster than she had.

 

And it was as the ship around them stirred-the first rustles outside her door, the engines humming along softly, the beginnings of a new day-that Hilde realized she was, in fact falling. She lay still for half another hour, thinking about the feelings that had taken root in her heart

 

If she was more honest with herself, she’d have realized right then that she had fell a while ago, and hard.

 

Loki was still out like a light and faintly snoring when Hilde finally got up from the bed and dug out the day’s clothes. He slept through morning wash up, and probably would have slept through breakfast if she didn’t wake him up first. Before getting back to her own room, she stopped by the showers and filled a pitcher with warm water, and took two washcloths from the store closet. She couldn’t summon wash bins and luxury soap like he could, but she could at least return the favor and get him out of bed.

 

He was still sleeping when she got back, and so she crouched beside the bed, dipped one washcloth into the warm water and began gently wiping his face. He slept on, even when she continued down his jaw line and to his neck. He didn’t stir even as she washed his throat, his collarbone, his chest. She leaned back on her haunches and frowned, frustrated by how deeply he could sleep when she had roused the second he began wiping her skin. And then she got the idea to lean forward and kiss him, following the trail she’d made with the wet water, softly nibbling his pale skin. It was only when she reached the edges of the thin bra he still wore that he shifted any, his breathing stuttering about as he huffed and turned over. She expected his eyes to open then, sleepy and slow, but he only settled back into her mattress and begin snoring again.

 

Hilde scowled, standing up with the pitcher in her hand and was tempted now to chunk it at his stupid, pretty face when she got a better idea. She rang the towel out into the remaining water and then, with only the barest amount of regret for her poor mattress, she dumped the entire pitcher out onto his head.

 

He woke up then, sputtering and coughing, nearly leaping out the sheets as if on fire. Hilde nearly hurt her sides laughing, and shook even harder as he blinked water out his eyes, glaring daggers in her direction.

 

“Was that really necessary?!” he growled, his voice sleepy and raspy. “By the nine…” he muttered, and Hilde wiped tears from her eyes. It was definitely worth a wet mattress and soaked sheets to see the expression on his face, equal parts confused and annoyed. He was so cute when he was irritable.

 

“It was either that, or knock your skull in with this,” she said, still amused, and hefted the heavy pitcher in one hand before ever so softly tapping it against his forehead. He glared up at her in an attempt to appear angry, but he seemed too tired to be.

 

“I suppose I can handle a bit of water. But goodness, Hilde, you couldn’t just allow me to sleep in for one day? I’m exhausted.”  He stood then, water dripping down his jaw and chest, the bra soaked and transparent. Hilde found it incredibly arousing. And then she felt badly, for she had kept Loki up too long talking and kissing and that was why he was so tired now.

 

“I shouldn’t have kept you awake last night,” she offered by way of apology. Loki waved it off and offered her a sleepy smile.

 

“Wasn’t your fault, honestly. My seidr isn’t quite the same as it was before; I spent four years in the guise of my dear adopted father, so shapeshifting tires me more than it used to.” Hilde made an ‘oh’ with her mouth.

 

 “So…being her drains you?”

 

Loki shook his head, and peeled the wet bra off to toss on the bed. “Not usually. If I’m feeling 100 percent her, then it’s as easy as putting on new socks. It’s only when I’m not naturally feeling like her that day that it takes some effort. And I wasn’t last night, not really.”

 

“So…why did you…”

 

“Because I wanted you to know,” he says simply, and he stands then, shucking the too short pants he wore off as he did. He was completely nude beneath them and Hilde couldn’t help staring, her eyes eyeing the flex of his muscles as he walked to where his leathers hung over a chair. She thought of last night and how shy she had been changing in front of Hilde, but how unashamed he was in front of her now.

 

“If you’re going to stare, you may as well touch too.”

 

Hilde blinks, nudged out of her reverie by his teasing, seductive timbre and he stands in front of her, the blue leather pants hanging dangerously low on his narrow hips. Her eyes follow the flat, defined planes of his stomach along a soft trail that leads to a thick bush of coarse, onyx hair. Almost as in a dream, she lets her hands wander along the soft skin there; she revels in how hairy he is, at how his belly quivers when she touches him. HIs skin is soft and warm and flecked with little moles and scars. When she glances up, his head is bowed over her, his eyes hooded and dark and his mouth open in a soft pant.

 

“All I’ve done is touch you,” she says, smirking, and he licks his lips, shudders as her hand splays out across his abdomen and slides up his chest.

 

“That’s all you have to do,” he rasps out, letting his eyes slide shut for one long moment, then opening them again in a flutter of dark lashes. She’s never noticed how long his lashes are till now, how utterly beautiful his eyes are. He is both exquisitely feminine and at the same time, erotically masculine in ways that turn her core to molten gold.

 

“I wanted to do this last night,” she confesses, because she had.

 

“Not yet,” he whispers, his eyes holding promise and something else she doesn’t want to name yet. She thinks it's because she hadn’t rejected him for being her. She’d simply smiled and kissed and joyfully discovered. But Loki wasn’t ready for her to touch her just yet, not the way Hilde touched him, and Hilde understood in some way. She could wait. It didn’t stop her from wanting.

 

She wanted to map the slender curves of Loki’s female form, of long legs and the slight curve in her belly, of high full breasts and a long pale neck. She wanted to suck hickies into the skin between her thighs, to taste her, to see if she was sweet and divine like Hilde imagined she must be. And now, staring at her male form, at the sharp jawline and chiseled cheekbones that are there regardless of what form, at the differences and similarities, she wanted to taste _him_ too.

 

She hadn’t done something like that before. She’d never been inclined. And none of her male lovers had ever asked or demanded she return their favors. The thought struck her as she wrapped her small, strong hand about his throat and felt the pulse underneath the skin dance and skitter like a nervous animal. And suddenly her mouth was watering and she was aching to have him in her mouth.

 

The hell had gotten into her?

 

Before she could question it, she tilts her head back further, to really seek his eyes and he indulges her, a soft smile playing on his lips as he waited to see what she would do. She tiptoes up and captures him in a slow, sultry kiss, something that built hotter and deeper the longer it went. He is an amazing kisser, taking his time to suck and bite her lips possessively, to delve his tongue into her mouth and taste the sharp bite of the chewing stick still on her teeth. He drinks her mouth in like it’s good wine and his hands cup her face, thumbs stroking the skin over her cheekbones softly, his other fingers just barely touching her flesh so that it tickles and makes her giggle and sigh.

 

And then before she can lose her nerve, she begins to trail her kisses southward, over his neck and throat, across his chest, placing an extra tender one on the large scar that mares his chest. Her hands follow, sweeping down his sides for purchase as she kneels and moves her hot mouth lower, across his belly and her tongue darts out, tastes the soft skin of his navel. It is only when her hands tug at the leather pants does he say anything.

 

“Brunnhilde,” he chokes out, swallowing and beginning again. “Brunnhilde, what are you…you don’t have to…oh. _Oh_ ….”

 

He trails off when she takes his cock from his pants, stroking the hot velvet flesh and then pressing her lips to the tip of it. She licks her lips and they come away salty, though the taste isn’t entirely unpleasant, so she persists, darting her tongue out to lick around the head, and, finding the texture unusual but soft, sucks as much as she possibly can into her mouth. She hopes she’s doing this right, going off of what she’s seen at parties and orgies, the occasional video, and those few times she let a girlfriend bring a guy home from the bar. She’s probably awful at this, she thinks to herself, and so she slides her mouth off him with a slick plop, looking up to find his head tilted back, mouth open wide and shuddering breaths panting from his chest.

 

 _Oh_. So maybe she’s doing something right then?

 

Either way she decides to ask. She swallows the leftover saliva in her mouth and gets on her knees. The floor is uncomfortable but she can’t keep kneeling like she is. It’s making her thighs burn uncomfortably.

 

“Am I doing this right?” she asks, her voice breathy and a lot higher than it usually is. “I’ve never done this before.” She wouldn’t recognize it if she didn’t know she was the one talking. Loki tilts his head heavily and blinks lust hazed eyes down at her, looking all the world like the god he is, though at her mercy. It makes her wetter than a summer rain storm.

 

“Anything you do is right,” he says, his voice so deep and thick with desire that all she wants to do is stand up and climb him like a tree and ride him hard and fast. She tempers the fire down a bit. She wants to finish this, if she can. It’s exciting.

 

“But if you want me to tell you,” he continues, “then….I’ll definitely…I’ll try.” Hilde smiles then, shifting her knees on the hard floor. Perhaps she should grab a pillow. She turns to get one when he plops back down on the mattress and gestures for her to get on the bed with him. “It’s kinder on your knees if you're positioned like this,” he says, and he stretches out across the covers, parting his leather clothed legs so that she can get between. Hilde grabs the waistband and pulls them down quickly, tossing the pants in the general direction of the chair that still holds his other clothes. She’s about to crawl up toward his waiting cock when he stops her, then tugs her close and gets to work on her clothes.

 

“Hey, what are you-“

 

“I want you naked.”

 

She huffs, though she’s pulling her vest off hurriedly. “We don’t have time to get me naked, Lackey,” she says. “I’ve got shit to do today.” He shakes his head, smiling wickedly. 

 

"You can postpone it, whatever it is," he insists, and she sighs, then wiggles around so she can shuck off the pants she'd only just put on. At least she's not in her boots yet, only wearing her lounge slippers and socks. She takes those off too, and she's left in her underclothes and bra.

 

"These too, your Highness?" she asks, sarcastic as she can be when she's so horny and he's waiting. He growls a no and reaches out, long fingers clasping her chin and she follows his direction, her hands sliding up his shins to his thighs. She's never really paid attention to how thick his thighs are, how broad his shoulders are, or how long he is-everywhere. She realizes she's only really ever thought of Loki in incredibly vague ways, even during sex and it's as if a light has gone off. He's a tall, toned, massively powerful and stealthily intimidating man. And it's incredibly, incredibly sexy.

 

"Sucking a cock is not nearly as intimidating as it looks," he starts. She has her hand wrapped around the base, giving him light strokes as he begins his instruction. It makes his voice tremble just a bit and that makes her smile. "Really, just treat it like a lolly and you'll be fine." Hilde blinks.

 

"A lolly? You mean...a candy?" He nods, shifts a bit so that his hips are angling up and he leans back to rest on his elbows.

 

"Do you bite or suck lollipops?"

 

"Suck, usually. Biting is bad for your teeth."

 

Loki chuckles a little breathlessly. "Same with a cock. Don't bite it, not unless you know for a fact that the person who owns that cock likes something like that. I happen to not mind a bit of teeth, but for today, we're simply going to avoid teeth altogether."

 

"There's people who like...being bit on the dick?"

 

She thinks he'd laugh if he wasn't hard as stone in her hand and dripping precum.

 

"Oh yes...in all your days on Sakaar, you mean to tell me that you've never seen that happen?"

 

She can't recall anything so violent so she shakes her head. "I spend a thousand years on Sakaar and never had a dick in my mouth either, Lackey. Back to the task at hand. Treat it like a lollipop. What's next?"

 

His hand is still under her chin and he traces her bottom lip with his thumb. She takes the bait and allows him to slip it into her mouth, where she toys the tip of it with her tongue. 

 

"Whatever you do to a lollipop...or one of those frozen ices, you've had one, yes?" Hilde nods again. "One of those...actually, that may work... _mmmm Brunnhilde, I'm talking_ , stop moving your hand."

 

She grins. "A frozen ice pop, then," she says. "I think I have the gist of it."

 

"Yes, yes," he says. "But slow it down, at first, keep things slow. I'll let you know when to speed up, I'll let you know when to suck harder or faster." He stops talking and waits, as patiently as he can, for her to move now. She lets out a breath and lowers her head, deciding to keep eye contact at first to watch his reaction. It's a little awkward, the way her neck is tilted, but she wraps her lips around him and he groans, deep from his chest and she thinks, yes, this is so worth the crick she's probably going to have afterward.

 

For a while, she does exactly as he'd told her. She imagines he's got an ice lolly between his legs, a long, hot, hard ice lolly that is salty and a little musky and is nearly too wide to get between her lips. But she tries to relax and eventually she does, eventually she manages to breathe out her nose while her mouth is preoccupied, and eventually Loki gives her the command to go faster.

 

She does. He takes her hand and twists it up, even as her mouth is working, and she catches the rhythm of that action so easily she impresses herself. She'd smile if his big dick wasn't making her jaw ache. Fortunately for Hilde, Loki is riled up enough that he seems to already be close; that, at least, she can recognize and she sucks harder, especially at the sensitive tip. The sounds coming from his throat are guttural and frankly, unbecoming of a son of the royal family but she doesn't care. She's probably soaked through her underclothes and her nipples are hard and aching. All she really wants is him deep inside her, stretching her to the brink the way her mouth is. And she's tempted to stop, right before he cums, and climb on his lap to get her own pleasure, but she'd misjudged how close he was and all of a sudden he's roughly pulling her head back. 

 

" _Fuck_ , Hilde!" he gasps out, his hips lifting from the mattress, and white hot spurts of his seed hit her right on the chin and chest. She stares at his throbbing cock for a long moment, then up to his heaving chest and finally meets his eyes, that are blown wide and awed.

 

"Are you sure... _fuck_ ," he attempts, and he falls back to the pillows, laughing shakily as he does. "Are you sure you've never done that before?" 

 

"Valkyrie's honor," she says, grinning in triumph. She takes her thumb and wipes the hot cum from her chest, taking a bit of it and tasting it. It's sticky and strange and she decides she doesn't really like it much. In the back of her head she wonders how Numa ever liked swallowing the stuff; thank goodness Loki pulled her away before it really got into her mouth. But the Prince is staring at her like nothing she's ever seen and suddenly she's being dragged up to kiss him, the mess on her chin smearing between them as he sucks her tongue into his.

 

"You taste like me," he moans, laughing giddily and then he tilts his hips up to press against her pelvis, to show her that he's still hard and he needs more.

 

Well, if he wants more, more is what he'll get. She's in service to the crown, after all.

 

It takes her all of a second to rip her underwear off and onto the floor, to slide his cock between her lips and slick it down, and then she lowers herself onto him, slowly because it's been two weeks and she's gasping both at how good this feels and how thick he is and that it hurts but she likes it. His hands find her hips and he grips, near to bruising, and helps her out by pushing his hips up so that he fills her to the hilt. He slides back and then up, deep and hard and deliberate and Hilde nearly screams it feels so good. Loki scrapes his nails up her sides and tugs her bra down so that her nipples are bared to him, and he sucks one into his mouth, moving his hips up, in, out and and around slowly, just enough so that he hits every little spot inside her that makes her toes curl but not enough so that she'll cum quickly. He wants to draw this out, she can tell, and she'll let him for now because it feels amazing just having him inside her. She moves with him, sinking down every time he thrusts up and her nails are embedded into his shoulders so deep she draws blood. 

 

"Tell me how good it feels," he rasps out. "Tell me, Hilde. _Moan for me_." She does then, not holding any pleasure back and she slides her bloody nails into his hair. 

 

"You know how good you feel, asshole," she breathes, and he laughs. "Fuck me, you feel so good, _so so so_..."

 

She cuts off with a squeal when he flips them, pressing her back into the mattress and parting her legs as wide as he can. He reaches up, grasps the headboard, and moves in earnest, just as deeply as before but harder, and his fingers find her clit, stroking her in time to his thrusts. She is so close now, and so is he when he slows his hips and takes her hard enough to rock the bed bolted to the metal floor. She presses her face into his chest to muffle her screams and his hair curtains her face, his mouth open as he groans harshly and loudly, and then something snaps and they cum, together, arching and straining against each other as the orgasm takes them over. 

 

When Hilde comes down enough to think, she realizes he's still inside her, and that he's gasping for breath on top of her, his skin slick with sweat, and he's so hot she's afraid he's feverish. But he laughs then, deep dark chuckles that make her clench around him and oh Hel, he's still hard and-

 

"Want to ride my face, sweetheart?" he asks, his grin wide and deadly. "Only if I get to have another taste of you," she breathes, her grin matching his and in the blink of an eye he has her flipped up and over.

 

Hilde gives a moaning laugh when his tongue touches her, and then she gets to work. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Always on tumblr, of course. And I take coffee's now! Go to my blog to get the link. :)
> 
> lilithenaltum.tumblr.com


	13. xii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domesticity + fun and games + Loki has a slip of the tongue and he's probably kinda maybe in some hot water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you follow me on tumblr, you'll know that I posted a soundtrack that corresponds with each chapter of SDTS. The link will be posted before the start of the chapter, if you're interested. :D

[Shake Down the Stars: Chapter List & Soundtrack](http://lilithenaltum.tumblr.com/post/169326794797/shake-down-the-stars-chapter-list-soundtrack)

* * *

 

It wasn't quite dinnertime yet. Training with the girls was over and Loki had nothing else to do, so he lay on Hilde's bed, eyes closed and body lax. Her fingernails scratched soft, lazy patterns into his scalp, and Loki was nearly asleep from the soothing murmur of her lovely voice. She was reading from his mother's storybook per usual, on one story that he remembered being a favorite of Thor's. He smiled at a brief memory of a young Thor perched eagerly in his bed, the covers pulled up to his chin and his favorite stuffed snake curled under his left arm. And to his right, as always, was a tiny Loki, his head on his brother's shoulder and his hands clasped within Thor's. The memory made him smile and he closed his eyes, sighing tenderly when Hilde pressed her fingertips into his temples and massaged circles there.

 

"Are you getting sleepy, Lackey?" she asked softly, and he blinked up at her, her bright brown eyes staring at him curiously. There was something else he caught on her face before she smoothed it into her usual jovial smirk. His heart leapt at the thought that perhaps, just maybe, there was love there and he had to tamper down the thrill that sent him. To have Hilde love him...well, the very idea made everything within him want to shout.

 

She was incredible-fierce and strong and kind. The way she had accepted the female part of himself so easily had meant everything in the world to him. He was certain, beyond belief, that he loved her and deeply. He only hoped that this wasn't just a honeymoon phase, or the sex talking, and so he kept that to himself until the time was right.

 

Instead he met her smirk with one of his own, though he was sure his was drowsy and thus the affect wasn't quite the same. No matter, as he succeeded and getting her to smile completely now, her beautiful mouth and sparkling eyes lighting up her entire, lovely face. There were times where he marveled at how beautiful she truly was, and this was one of them. "You could say that," he replied finally and he yawned to back up his point. "I didn't realize I was tired until you began to read." She laughed at that and pushed him off her lap goodnaturedly, setting the book aside. "Oh jeez, I didn't realize reading to you was so boring. I'll make it my business to refrain from doing so now." He sat up slowly and lifted her chin with his forefinger, then pressed his lips to hers briefly, the kiss sweet and chaste. "Oh no, my dear," he said, barely missing calling her 'love' instead. "Your voice is a balm. I think you could lull even the fussiest of babies to slumber. And that is a compliment."

 

Her smile was bittersweet. "I have before, you know. Lulled babies to sleep." 

 

"At the orphanage?" he asked, and she nodded. 

 

"There were almost always babies there. And generally, they only stayed for as long as it took for them to be weaned. People adopt babies much faster than they do older children or adolescents. I suppose I always had a soft spot for babies. They're actual innocents and they love you regardless of who you are or what you do. I couldn't take the crying at night, poor things were lonely and scared and all they wanted was to rocked and held. And so I would sing to them or read to them and...it worked so well that I was given unofficial baby duty."

 

She shrugged, almost as if she was embarrassed, but Loki pulled her close to him and looked her in the eye. 

 

"Did you ever get attached?"

 

She nodded, and blinked fast. He had the feeling she wanted to tear up but was trying not to. "All the time. It never failed. I'd get one wrapped about my heart and someone would come and take her from me. I got the bright idea that one day I'd run my own orphanage and I'd be rich enough to adopt all of them permanently. And then I realized that babies grow up and become children and children are...a lot more work." She laughed then, though the tears that had sprung up stuck in her throat. 

 

"I never took you for the maternal type," Loki said, teasing her, and she wiggled free of his grasp and punched him on the shoulder. The smirk was back but her eyes were still sad and he wanted more than anything to drive that sadness away.

 

"Oh? Because I couldn't _possibly_ want babies and be the natural born badass I am? Have you not been listening to anything I've been telling you?" She scoffed then, and moved to get off the bed but Loki pulled her back. "Hey! What are you-" He shushed her with another kiss and trailed his fingertip up the side of her cheek, pressing his body close to hers. "I was simply teasing you," he said in a low voice, and he spread his hand along the side of her neck, his thumb pressing just so on her pulse point. It was both sensual and calming to her and he realized now that this was why she had been so shaken at the thought of his hand on her throat; it required a lot of trust. The thought that she trusted him now thrilled him. "I heard all about the dozens of children you planned to fill you home with. And all about how Gunnr wanted to limit it to it to ten max." Hilde chuckled. "She _said_ that, but I know I could have convinced her otherwise. And really, she was the one who was good with older kids. I'd seen her before, with some of the orphans in town. She could get anyone to listen to her, could convince them the sky was green."

 

Hilde sighed and rolled over a bit, though Loki had her firmly in his grasp and it was a little difficult to move. She glared at him when she finally did get comfortable and he could only give her his best shit eating grin, so that she had no choice but to laugh again. He didn't really care what it took to make her laugh, so long as she didn't cry. And if she did cry, he wanted it to be for a good reason, whether that meant she laughed so hard she was brought to tears or out of joy. For a second he imagined her crying happily as he slipped a ring upon her finger, Heimdall's deep warm voice bonding them in matrimony and Thor sniffling like a giant baby at his side. He shook himself from that thought for the time being and, ignoring her glare, buried his face into the side of her neck. Loki opened his mouth and sucked a bit of skin into his it, the salt of it arousing, the smell of her unwashed skin primal and intoxicating.

 

"Ew, Lackey, I haven't showered yet," she said in weak protest, but he had her breath stuttering and he knew he was on the right track. "You say that as if it would deter me," he murmured against her skin, sliding his hand down her torso to slip underneath her vest. The flesh there was hotter and sweaty and it only turned him on more. His lips moved up to a spot behind her ear that he knew made her weak and as he did so, his fingers went to the buckles that kept her top closed, tugging on one cautiously. She batted his hands away, and sat up, hopping off the bed before he could, once again, pull her down to the sheets. He pouted.

 

"I need a shower," she said, smoothing her messy hair from her face and straightening her shoulders.

 

"But I want to taste you," he whined and Hilde rolled her eyes.

 

"Ewww no, not like this! I'm filthy. And this isn't about what you want, remember?"

 

Ah yes, their deal. Loki sighed. Perhaps giving her most of the control in this endeavor wasn't the best idea. But perhaps he could still swing it in his favor. And so he smoothed his face into an amiable but neutral expression, though he knew his eyes probably still gave him away. "Of course, sweetheart," he purred, lounging back on his elbows. "How could I forget." He paused for a beat, toying with the laces of his tunic and then met her gaze with fire behind his eyes. "But what do _you_ want, Brunnhilde? Tell your Lackey what you want." His words practically dripped with lust and seduction. Even still he was certain she'd only laugh at him, later perhaps considering his offer in the shower and then attack him that night. He could wait, if that's what she wanted.

 

Instead, she opened her mouth to speak and then licked her lips slowly, her eyes narrowing as she considered him.

 

"I want you to eat me out," she said and he almost jumped from the bed at her words. "But!" she continued, holding her palm up to stop him and he relaxed back onto the mattress. "Only after my shower." She paused for a second, letting a wicked smile slide across her face and Loki's heart sped up. "And I want you on your knees. When I get back, you better be down there waiting for me." He stared at her rapturously, a grin from ear to ear as he scrambled from the bed and threw a few pillows down. "Anything else you require, my dear?" he asked, and perched himself onto the floor, ready and willing to devour her the second she came back from the showers.

 

"No hands," she said, and she grabbed a fresh set of clothes, stopping in front of him long enough to thump his forehead. "You only get to use your mouth. That's it." He raised a brow, certain she'd change her mind once things got going but he played along, and shifted so that her fingertip slid down his nose to his lips. He took it into his mouth and suckled on it until she pulled away, her breath stuttering in her chest. "Are you sure about that? You realize I'm called Silvertongue for a reason." She turned with a laugh. "Uh huh, yeah, I've been on the receiving end of that Silvertongue, I know what you can do with it. Just do what I say." There was no malice in her voice but there was a command and it made him harder than he already was. "Um, and yeah...be ready when I get back." She walked out the door quickly and Loki drummed his fingertips on his thighs in anticipation.

 

* * *

 

Later, after the quickest shower she probably had ever taken and more than one round of him using his tongue in ways that should have been outlawed, Loki rested on the bed once more, this time naked and spent. As soon as he'd made her cum the second time she'd hauled him up and pushed him to the mattress, riding him hard and fast until she got her third orgasm...and because she was generous, she slowed down enough to bring him to his own. Loki couldn't quite pinpoint what his favorite part about sleeping with her was, but he knew he genuinely loved the afterglow. Her body was pliant and she was content and sweet then, peppering his skin with soft kisses and stroking his hair. Right now she was curled up beside him, right in the crook of his arm, her leg draped over him and her hair spilled across his chest. Her eyes were closed but she wasn't sleeping; she was humming something soft and Loki strained to hear it. It wasn't familiar whatever it was, but he liked it. And then she began to sing, something soft and sweet. It was beautiful, a little sad too, he could tell, and incredibly moving. But it was her voice that struck him. Her voice was angelic and sultry. He held his breath as she sang, and cradled her closer to him.

 

One day, he would remember this as one of the most wonderful moments of his life.

 

When she finished, her voice trailing off softly on the last note, she looked up at him and smiled, eyes soft the same way they'd been that afternoon.

 

"What was that?" he asked, barely above a whisper and she tilted her head when she responded. "It's an old, old lullaby," she said. "I learned it on Sakaar of all places. There was an older woman who scavenged in the junkyards and sometimes I helped her get home without getting mugged. She was an ornery old thing, but sometimes she could be downright sweet. And one night, while I was putting her groceries away, she started singing. It was the prettiest song I'd ever heard. I asked her where it came from and she told me from a planet that had been destroyed a long time ago."

 

"Which one?"

 

"Alderaan. I'd never heard of it till then."

 

Loki furrowed his brow in thought and realized he'd never heard of it either. "Doesn't sound familiar at all, but there's so much to the universe and so many places I haven't yet seen." He thinks one day he'll tell her of his childhood plans to leave Asgard and roam the galaxy, to become a space pirate and see everything there was to see, but instead he asks her if she knows anymore lullabies. "Oh plenty," she says. "And in all kinds of languages too. You meet all sorts of people on Sakaar and they come from literally everywhere." She starts another one, this time in something she calls Na'vi-"long blue people with stripes all over, really nice folk" and effortlessly drifts toward yet another song, this one in something she calls Elvish. "But not like the ones we know," she clarifies. "They're different. They come from a place called Middle Earth. I couldn't tell you where that is, so don't ask...though I don't think they meant Midgard. And I don't remember how they got to Sakaar, only that they were some of the few people who ever made it out."

 

Loki stared at her in awe, while she chattered away about elves and dwarves and someone called Sauron. Occasionally she peppers her rambling with wisps of other languages and though he tries to keep count he loses his tally at 24. "Hilde," he says suddenly, and though he hates to interrupt her while she's talking (and so happily, too), he must know something.

 

"How many languages do you know?"

 

She blinks, her mouth open mid sentence and then she quiets to think. "I...fluently? Um. Hmmm." She trails off and is quiet for a while and Loki doesn't think she'll respond but finally she seems to have made her mind up.

 

"I honestly don't know", she confesses. "I just...I can pick them up, especially in songs and such but...you learn bits and pieces here and yonder while you work and you kinda..." She clears her throat, obviously embarrassed, though Loki knows not why. "If I had to guess, over 100. Fluently. Not a lot, really." She shrugs her free shoulder and snuggles back down onto his chest, silent again as Loki mulls all this over.

 

"Hilde...sweetheart, you're a polyglot."

 

"A who?"

 

He laughs softly and pecks her on the forehead. "A polyglot. Someone who knows a multitude of languages. And you're a natural one at that, it seems. Who in the Hel can truly pick up 100 plus languages fluently? I know a few just from my studies and from bopping about the Realms, but that many is...it's astounding." Hilde shakes her head and snorts.

 

"Oh come on, it's only cause I'm older, trust me," she says, blushing a bit. Loki wants to argue that he could be half a million years old and still not understand languages the way she does but she's talking before he can say it. "And look, you're a prince, you didn't get the chance to wander all over the universe like you wanted. I'm sure anyone could pick up Valyrian or Huttese."

 

"What?"

 

And then she sits up and turns to him, explaining the two and how they are from completely different worlds and peoples and creatures, and how easy they are but she begins speaking in the one called Valyrian-"High Valyrian if you're fancy," she says with a smirk-and she has him absolutely dumbfounded. It's not that he never realized she was intelligent; no, he'd always known that and it was part and parcel of why he had been so attracted to her in the beginning. But this...this was on another level.

 

She made him feel like an imbecile and he absolutely loved it.

 

  
He found out, in that wonderful conversation, as his hands stroked her warm skin lovingly and she gave him little glimpses of her life on Sakaar, that she was also a gifted comedienne, telling witty little jokes that took him several seconds to really grasp and that left him in stitches when he finally did. After one particular one that had him actually giggling like a child, he pulled her up and draped her across his chest, her face inches from his and her lips quirked into a perfectly happy smile. He reached up and cupped her cheek, his fingers sliding through silky curls that framed her face and she looked much younger than she was in that moment, all crinkling eyes and white teeth. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to tell her that he loved her, to kiss her deeply and skip dinner and next morning's breakfast and make love to her sweetly.

 

He opted simply to kiss her then, trying in some way to put how he felt into it. When he pulled away, breathless and giddy, she was staring at him curiously. 

 

"Why do you do that?"

 

"Do what, sweetheart?" he asked, and she pressed her mouth into a line, shifted her gaze from his intense green eyes to something more neutral-her headboard. For a long while she was silent, and when she lay her head on his chest, nibbling on her fingernails idly, he assumed she wouldn't continue. And so he didn't push her to speak, he simply let her be, his hands stroking her back until her breathing evened and he was sure she was asleep against his skin. 

 

Well, perhaps they'd have dinner in bed tonight. He figured he could slip away when she really got deep enough in slumber to not notice him gone, he could grab a few things from the kitchen. Thinking about dinner made him think about the larder and how low it was getting and that they'd be landing at the trading stop in two days standard time and then-

 

"Why do you treat me like that? Like I'm...like I'm someone special?"

 

She hadn't moved from her position on top of him and so he was taken aback by her sudden outburst, quiet as it was. He found he was struggling for words and so he waited a moment to gather his thoughts but she kept going before he could reply.

 

"It's weird, you know. I figured it'd be easy to just fuck you for the fun of it and go. And you were so eager, and I thought, he's only really after the sex but if he can help keep the nightmares at bay, well hell, go for it. And I did. But it doesn't feel like just sex, Loki. This is...I don't know what it is but I need to know what your intentions are. Because I can't keep doing this if you're only here to get something from me."

 

Loki knew she could feel his heart pattering wildly in his chest and he hoped she didn't think it was because he was thinking up a lie. If anything, he only wanted to keep her from knowing just how deep this went, how much she meant to him because it wasn't quite time yet. He didn't want to scare her away, but he didn't want her to think that this was just about sex anymore. And maybe, it had never really been. He wasn't sure if they even had a deal anymore. Perhaps it was wishful thinking on his part, but he hoped that to her it was more than that.

 

"I told you once that I was fond of you," he began and she picked her head up to look at him. "I meant that. I didn't go into this thinking with my cock, contrary to you may assume." The corner of her mouth curls up a little at that, but it's gone so quickly he thinks he may have imagined it. "So no, this isn't simply some ploy to divest you of...well, I don't know what exactly you'd think I want from you besides your time and affection."

 

"Affection?"

 

"I happen to _like_ when you read to me. I love when you play in my hair and scold me for not eating enough and smack me on the ass when we walk down the hall. It's...comforting." She snorts before she can stop it and he smiles. "My point is, dear Brunnhilde...well, I um..."

 

_I love you. I love you so very much you stubborn,  incredible woman._

 

"I'm more than fond of you now. I quite adore you." Yes, he thinks, adore will have to work until she's ready for the entire truth of it. "Have anything we've done helped you with your anxieties?" She nods. "I haven't really had any bad dreams in a while. And I haven't had much trouble stopping the panic attacks."

 

"Then that's really the only thing I wanted from you. The rest of this is simply for the pleasure of having you around. I like you."

 

He can't read the expression on her face for once and it scares him a bit to think that perhaps she wasn't even on that level with him yet, but she leans down and kisses him soundly, lingering and long, teeth and tongue and spit and he's groaning against her when the bell rings for dinner. He sighs against her mouth and she's grinning.

 

"I quite like you too, Lackey. Maybe more than I should."

* * *

 

Dinner is crowded and the two of them are late because neither of them can find their clothes nor do they really want to get out of bed. They slip in just in time to find that Bruce has saved them seats beside him, and Hilde nudges the scientist affectionately, thanking him for the gesture. Loki only nods in acknowledgement but he does hope it's friendly. He has less of an issue with Bruce Banner than he does with the Hulk and Bruce is one of Hilde's closest friends on this ship. It wouldn't be good to have any bad blood between the two. Although, he thinks that perhaps the reason there's anything there in the first place is his fault, and so he offers the other man a genuine smile, which seems to surprise Bruce.

 

"You're in a good mood, Loki, what's goin' on with you lately? Anything fun?" Hilde is sipping cool lemon water and hides her grin with a bite of bread. Loki shoots a glance at her and suppresses his own grin, then smooths his face into something amiable and friendly.

 

"Nothing too out of the ordinary. Royal duties, the occasional sparring session with our Valkryie friend. She's quite formidable, you know." Bruce nods, perking up at the mention of both Hilde and sparring. "Oh yeah, I've watched her go after it with Heim. She's amazing. It's like watching a tornado or something!" Loki leans forward and grins. "Quite! Have you ever had the pleasure of sparring with her, Bruce?" Bruce shook his head. "Not yet. I mean, I'm not exactly a warrior like this. Big guy comes out when I have to do any kind of ass whipping and so I never got around to working on any weapons training when he's sleepin'. But ya know, I've been working with a sword and I'm doin' alright I think. Never will get as good as our girl here," he says, and he pats Hilde on the back. She beams at him brightly.

 

Loki thinks he'd be jealous if he didn't understand their relationship. As it is, it's quite adorable to see how Bruce fawns over the Valkyrie. He figures he can have a bit of fun with it, at Bruce's expense of course.

 

"We all should strive to have her level of aptitude for the sword. She's quite good with other weapons, though. You should see her with a shaft." Hilde raises her brow but Bruce doesn't notice the slip of Loki's tongue. "A staff? Oh wow, yeah, Val, you'll have to show me one day. You ever use one of those double bladed things before?" Hilde nods. "I'm decent with one." She shoots Loki a glare and he only smirks, taking a long swig of his water. "And even in hand to hand combat she's marvelous," Loki continues. He's probably going to get punched for this but he can't help himself.

 

"She does this trick with her legs and it-"

 

There's a punch to his rib cage he was expecting but it doesn't stop it from hurting any less. Even still, he can't help the mirth dancing in his eyes nor can he stop himself from shaking in silent laughter.

 

Hilde is trying her best to look scolding and disapproving but she's laughing too, though she hides it behind her glass. And Bruce rambles on, covering the gamut of weaponry he's learned from Heimdall to new ways to treat infection with Agatha, who he keeps glancing at across the room. "Why don't you ask her to come sit with us tomorrow, Bruce?" Hilde asks, finishing the rest of Loki's soup. Bruce stutters and glances at Hilde with color in his cheeks. "I don't think she'd wanna...you know, she's kinda...she's not interested in me like that and-" "Have you asked?" Hilde interrupts. Bruce shakes his head. "Well, no, but you don't just ask a lady if she wants to have dinner with you...right?" Heimdall is chuckling at the exchange and snags one of Bruce's lonely peppers from his plate. "My friend, that's precisely what you're supposed to do. Otherwise you'll be walking around like a lost puppy without a master, and that doesn't suit you." Loki is curiously silent throughout this entire conversation, observing the way the three of them chat and talk like old friends and he finds the whole thing endearingly normal.

 

This is what people do when they aren't fighting super powered alien forces or running for their lives. It's so domestic and ordinary that it makes his heart ache a little. And he imagines, for a moment, that this is what it'll be like when everything is done; when Thanos is defeated and they settle on Midgard. This is how life will be one day, normal and ordinary and happy.

 

Before the thought of that can truly settle in his heart, Thor is standing and everyone turns in attention. He is smiling, his usual smiling and friendly self, but Loki notices almost right away that something is off. Hilde and Heimdall notice too and Bruce notices them giving each other looks even if he's not sure what's going on. He glances at Loki, who nods once as if to say "we'll fill you in later." And so the scientist nods back and raises a brow, turning his attention back to Thor.

 

"Asgard! As you may well know we are but two standard days away from Umbreon. The trading port there has serviced the crown for centuries and after some negotiations, have agreed to trade with us one last time before we land on Midgard. Our stop will last a week, enough for us to restock, refuel, and recharge our spirits. So I exhort you to do your bidding and business wisely; if we make good time and nothing happens, we'll make it to Earth in a little less than another two weeks afterward." He pauses, glancing to Loki and gesturing for him to come over. Loki sighs, and squeezes Hilde's hand quickly, weaving through the crowded mess hall to stand at Thor's right. "Uh, does anyone have any concerns or questions?"

 

The people are mostly silent but then a few hands begin to shoot up and Loki and Thor take turns answering any questions they have. They're mostly mundane things, about how the barters in the market square at Umbreon don't take actual currency, but that private shops and boutiques do. Someone asks if there are in fact Asgardians who live on the trading moon; Thor confirms that all kinds of people live there off and on that a few of his father's old friends have settled there permanently. They've offered to act as delegates. There's one or two people who want to know about entertainment and recreation, and Loki has to dig deep into memories for information on that. It's been centuries since he ever stepped foot on Umbreon and he's sure things there are different; the brief transmissions they'd sent back and forth between the ship and the delegation there only ensured that the ship and the surviving Asgardians would be welcomed to restock and trade.

 

Once everyone had asked what they wanted and begin filing out of the mess, Loki and Hilde lingered behind to catch Thor and ask him what truly was going on. "I don't know," Thor said, his face blank of expression but there was worry in his mouth and eyes. "I feel like we would have been better off stopping in Vanaheim than here; at least we know people there." Loki shook his head. "Vanaheim would have been more convenient than Umbreon but it's not quite safe for us there. There was unrest while I ruled and I entrusted Sif with investigating what was going on. Her reports were...spotty, to say the least. I'm not sure if she really found anything out and that only raised more suspicion." Thor rubbed his chin in thought. "At least when we get to Umbreon we can send her a message. Perhaps she'll make it there in time to travel with us to Midgard. She still doesn't know what truly happened to Father, does she brother?"

 

Hilde glanced between the two brothers and raised a brow. "I'm assuming this will be a problem, when she finds out?"

 

Loki snorts. "That's an understatement." He gives Hilde a smile, though it doesn't feel genuine. "Sif is loyal to Asgard and has never had a problem kicking my ass. I think you'll quite like her, actually." Brunnhilde nods and if Thor notices anything intimate about the way she presses into Loki's side, he says nothing, but his eye watches and he looks to the door of the mess hall.

 

"Look, it's late, we're all tired and probably itching to do something else but mull about and worry over trade agreements with people we haven't seen since we were children. How about we all meet in the morning, after first breakfast? We can talk more then." He salutes Hilde with a sideways grin and saunters out the door, his cape fluttering behind him like a flag.

* * *

 

"Are you tired?" Hilde sits in her room after dinner with her sword on her lap, polishing it absentmindedly. She seemed bored.

 

Loki shakes his head. He's a bit antsy, if he's honest with himself, and it's mostly because he's now worried about what's going to happen on Umbreon. The idea to skip Vanaheim, hit the tiny outpost asteroid Noname, and then Umbreon had seemed like a decent idea at the time, but he's second guessing himself.

 

He needs a distraction.

 

"What do you have in mind?"

 

"I have no idea," Hilde says, hefting her sword over and starting on the other side. "I'm tired of sitting in here all the time," and she looks up to find Loki's brow furrowed. "Though what happens in here is always nice," she finishes with a smile and he returns it, though he knew she hadn't meant anything by it. "So do I, sweetheart," he says softly, and he stands, walks to where she sits and presses a soft kiss to her temple. "But I must agree. There's got to be something else we can do besides fighting or fucking."

 

Hilde hums and continues polishing, and so Loki lays back on the mattress and stares at the ceiling, his mind drifting to any and everything, until he hears giggles and footsteps outside the room.

 

There's a knock at the door and Hilde is calling for whoever is outside to come in before Loki can even sit up. He looks at her desperately when the door creaks open and is still on his elbows when Lir and Karsi walk in, Hertha following quietly behind. Suddenly, Loki is more interested in this development then he is in being caught lounging on the Mistress's bed. Besides, he's not naked and everyone knows that Prince Loki and the Valkyrie are good friends. They just aren't sure how good. He's sure there's been whispers, though.

 

"How can I help you ladies?" Hilde asks, her voice jovial and casual, as if there isn't anything at all unusual about the picture she and Loki paints. 

 

The two younger girls look to each other and waffle around beside the door, while Hertha leans against the frame nonchalantly. It's Karsi who decides to speak up, though. "We...were wondering, um, if you'd want to come play with us." She smiles, shifting from one foot to the other nervously. "And by play, we mean, we're doing hide and seek, and we wanted two more to come play." Loki sits up and leans onto his bent knee, glancing between the three girls curiously. He's interested, surprisingly. "Hide and seek? Norns, I haven't played that in years. Centuries, even." Hilde chuckles and finishes wrapping her sword, propping it up beside the night table as usual. "If you haven't played it that long, imagine how long it's been since I've played it." She stands up then and stretches, taking her time in answering the waiting girls by her door.

 

"Who all do you have so far?" she asks, and it's Hertha that answers this time.

 

"Us three. The Midgard healer and Agatha, Nanna, Kari, Jorna, Jorna's little brother Endre and his friend, and Alfhilde if she can sneak away from her mum's."

 

"Is there a set number for the game these days?" Hilde asks, mostly to Loki who shrugs. "Last time I played," he said," there were only seven of us. But I've seen games involving an entire elementary school. I don't imagine there's a limit unless you impose one."

 

"And we're doing thirteen, 'cause that's Hertha's lucky number," Lir chirps in, grinning. Hertha smiles lazily behind her and shrugs. "Thirteen has gotten me out of some scrapes," she offers, in that quiet subtle way she always does. 

 

"Well?" Hilde says, towards Loki, who is already getting up from the bed. "Hide and seek, is it?" Loki grins. "Sounds like a plan to me."

 

They all meet in the corridor down from Alfhilde's room, but only when she's certain that her mother has gone to bed and she's free to sneak out. The group toss a coin to determine who starts as It and Endre gets the honor. Instead of being bummed about it, he's more than giddy to chase everyone about the ship. Before they set off, though, it's Agatha who insists on a few ground rules.

 

"Keep as quiet as you can," she begins, and hands out little transmitters so that everyone but It can keep in touch. "No screaming and yelling, though I know that sounds incredibly appealing. Some people have a bedtime right now. We want to honor that. Also, we don't go anywhere near the throne room; I'm sure His Majesty isn't in the mood to be bothered by us at this hour. No going into bedrooms, no sneaking into the showers. We stay in neutral territory." She turns to Loki, and he suddenly feels about twelve years old. "That goes for you as well, your highness," she says.

 

Loki raises his hands in supplication, a charming smile on his face. "Agatha I would never-" She scoffs and waves her hand. "No tricks either. I've seen what you can do with that seidr of yours." Loki really laughs now, and agrees then to keep it fair.

 

"No magic, then."

 

 _Well, that only makes it more fun_ , he thinks to himself and on his cue, Endre starts his count of ten, a silk tie around his eyes so he can't cheat. The remaining twelve split off into groups and pairs, and somehow Loki ends up with the giggling Karsi, who grabs his hand and shoots off with him toward the mess hall. For a while they're all silent, nothing but the noise of the ship itself and several doors opening and closing as people settle in for the night. Karsi brims with excitement, and after a few minutes of seemingly being in the clear, she strikes up a bit of conversation.

 

"You know, Lir said you were really nice and she's right. You're a lot nicer than I expected." 

 

Loki raises a brow. "Was I supposed to be something else?" he asks, thoroughly amused. "I like to think being nice is one of my redeeming qualities." Karsi shrugs. "You've not always been nice, your highness," she says plainly. "Remember when you broke the Bifrost and everyone thought you were dead? They said it's cause you were fighting with the Allfather, may he rest in Valhalla, and that you were trying to kill the King. And then you end up on Midgard and tried to conquer it but the King stopped you. Is it true? Mama won't tell me one way or another, so I never get a straight answer."

 

Loki stares at the blonde haired girl and her apparent lack of propriety around him. He figures he'd like her if she wasn't so damned blunt. "You don't mince words, do you Karsi?" She grins. "I've got too many siblings to hold my tongue," she says with a soft giggle and Loki only shakes his head.

 

They are quiet for a beat and then Loki leans in conspiratorially. "Everything you've heard was true, by the way," he says, and her eyes widen just a touch.

 

"And King Thor just...forgave you? After all of that?" she asks, a little awed. 

 

Loki isn't really sure how to answer that himself and so he says nothing, but he's saved by rapid footsteps and he gets a glimpse of Endre's dark hair as he's rounding the corner of the mess. "We've got to move, little one," he whispers, and grabs Karsi's hand again. She grins as she tiptoes with him right past Endre and back into the corridor. By the time the boy figures out he's lost his prey, the two of them are bounding down the corridor and nearly collide with Bruce. "I lost Agatha!" he whispers loudly, sliding down across the floor as he desperately tries to stop. Loki tries grabbing him to stir him away from his hunter, but by then it's too late and with a loudly triumphant "gotcha!" Bruce is now designated It. 

 

It goes on and on like this, Loki switching partners occasionally as they meet in corridors and the training room, where he, Jerrik and Agatha find Jorna and Kari. "Who's It?" Jorna asks, peeking her head out of the door and before anyone can answers, Karsi is tagging her on the forehead, bouncing giddily back down the corridor as she yells.  

 

"Jorna's It now!"

 

Eventually, almost everyone gets a turn at It. It's Loki's turn now and he has to force himself to not use any of his seidr, as the entire group considers it cheating. But he relies on his senses and his knowledge of everyone in the party, no matter how little, so that soon, he finds nearly everyone else huddled in the corner beside the showers. He decides to slide right past them before they notice him and head around the long way; if he's right, they'll all split again and he can guess who will go where.

 

Bruce headed to the mess with Jerrik and Nanna. Endre found Lir and disappeared to the kitchens while Kari and Karsi made a beeline for corridor seven, close to where Lir's room is. Hertha, Jonna, and Alfhilde grab Agatha and they're on their way to corridor four, leaving Brunnhilde alone. She's the only one who hasn't been It yet, and she's his target. Loki knew she's going to the storeroom, he knows, because he'd seen exactly where her eyes had drifted to. There's two ways to the storerooms; all the way down the fourth corridor to a door that leads down the bottom deck, and a direct passage close to the showers, where a ladder extends to reach it. She'll choose the second option and so he takes the first, giving her just enough time to get comfortable in her hiding place before he pounces.  He's silent as a cat when he gets to the storeroom, barely even breathing so her keen ears can't hear him. He creeps behind shelving and supplies, slinking in the darkest parts of the larders until he spots a flash of her, pressed against the wall closest to his desk. She's breathing heavily and laughing softly, speaking gently into the transmitter on her arm. He can't hear what she's saying, but whatever it is distracts her enough so that he suddenly pounces, and she squeals.

 

"Fuck, Lackey, where the Hel did you come from?!"

 

He chuckles and wraps his arms about her middle, crushing her to him briefly before letting go. "Good question, actually. Should I start at the beginning? You see, over one thousand years ago, Odin Allfather found a wee Jotun baby in the temple..." He trails off when she starts to giggle, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes and Loki checks that off his list of things to do. He's made her laugh till she cried. It fills him with an absurd amount of pleasure. The feel of her pressed against him does too, and he sneaks a few kisses into the space between her neck and shoulder, earning a soft moan.

 

"Mmmm, you can't do that here," she whispers, but she makes no protest to stop him and he keeps nibbling and kissing, moving his mouth up from her throat to her chin and finally to her lips. She tastes familiar and sweet, a hint of candy on her breath. He takes his time kissing her, hands grasping and stroking any bare skin he can find and digging into her round, firm bottom. She groans into his mouth, and her fingers come up to tangle into his hair, drag his mouth from hers back to her throat and he happily obliges, peppering kisses all across the skin there. For a moment he opens his eyes and finds her head tilted back, wanton and lush. He catalogs the sight into his memory and then places wet kisses from her collarbone to her mouth again.

 

"I could do this to you forever," he confesses, against her lips, and he feels her smile. "Kissing me?" "Mmhm. Kissing you." He slides his warm hands up her tunic and finds her heartbeat beneath his hands. "Touching you," he continues. Hilde shivers when his fingertips flicker across her nipples through her thin cotton bra. "Ditto on that," she adds, and he lets out a long breath when her hands slide down into his pants, stroking his cock. He moans, and kisses her again and again and again, taking her hand from his hardness and pressing it to his chest so that she can feel his heart racing. He rests his forehead against hers and opens his eyes to find hers shining in the dark, cool storeroom. And he is so overwhelmed by how he feels about her, his emotions and want and need swelling inside his heart, that his mouth speaks before his brain can clamp it shut. 

 

"Oh, I love you," he whispers, the words bubbling from his throat and out of his lips and he knows, the instance he says them, that it's the wrong thing to say.

 

"You...what?" Hilde shrinks back away from him a bit and snatches her hand from his chest as if she'd been burned. She stares at him for long, agonizing moments and he can not speak now, not sure what to say or do to make this right. But he knows he can't take the words back. He meant them. He is a liar, but he could never lie to her. The air is thick with tension and he thinks he will break if she doesn't say something, but then she laughs, nervous and empty and the smirk on her lips feels wrong. It's something, at least.

 

"I think I oughta cut back a little on this," she says, gesturing to the space between them. "You're getting out of pocket." He frowns, wanting to ask her what she means, his heart dropping like a stone in his chest, but she presses her fingers to his lips and shakes her head, her voice wavering just enough for him to know that she's bluffing now. "This doesn't need to be serious, Lackey," she says in a low voice. "Keep it fun, okay?" And then she moves around him, to get away from him he thinks, to put space between the two of them so she can breathe. He feels so cold. "Hilde, I..." She presses the transmitter into his hand and stands back, crossing her arms as she does so and Loki knows she will not budge. Not tonight she won't.

 

"Games almost over. Go. I'll give you a ten second lead."

 

He stands there still, hesitating. He doesn't understand, she'd asked him only earlier today if this was something real, if he was only playing with her affections and now...now he didn't know what to think. Had she only been playing him the entire time? She nods towards the shaft that leads to the second deck, urging him to leave.

 

"You caught me," she says, and he thinks that maybe her eyes are brighter than usual, that just maybe she's choked up but he could be imagining everything. "I'm It. Fair and square, Lackey, or do you not know the rules?" And then he knows she isn't talking about hide and seek anymore, so he turns, presses the button to the transmitter and gets Hertha on the other end. 

 

"One last round," he grits out, trying to keep his voice jovial and light. He never takes his eyes from her but she refuses to look at him and that stings worse than her reaction. 

 

"The Valkyrie is It."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I named a trading port after a Pokemon. Fight me.
> 
> If you're wondering what lullaby Hilde was singing, it's 'Mirrorbright', the Alderaanian lullaby from Claudia Grey's Star Wars Novel "Bloodline". And my impression of Sakaar is that it's literally a dump heap where all people of every universe could end up if they're not careful. Don't ask me how the Dothraki got out of Westeros and ended up in outer space because I really don't know, but somehow Bran had something to do with it. ;)
> 
> I'm on tumblr, so come say hi and tell me I'm rude for ruining Loki's moment with Brunnhilde like I did. :) lilitenaltum.tumblr.com


	14. interlude no. ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> another interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, another interlude. My angsty babies...I just want to smush them and slap them at the same time. Sigh.

The bed is empty and cold and if she were a less stubborn person, she would cry, but Hilde only squeezes her eyes shut harder and turns over once more. She feels crazy, completely irrational and juvenile and not for the first time, she wishes more than anything that Mother Freyja were here to talk to. Even still, she thinks she knows what she'd say and she isn't sure if she's really ready to hear her advice, blunt and unforgiving as it is.

 

She's running again, and she promised herself she wouldn't anymore.

 

But he terrifies her, almost as much as he makes her laugh, when he makes her smile so wide her face aches. He is kind and gentle with her in a way she had never anticipated, little touches at mealtimes and secret glances in the council meetings. She doesn't know how to react to something so simple and sweet, so she recoils, shelters her broken and damaged heart away until it is hidden under layers and layers of snark and sarcasm. And this had worked on Sakaar, when a girlfriend got too close, or when she started feeling broody and domestic. She'd kick them out then (It's not you, sugar, it's me) and pretend that she wasn't as lonely as she was by drowning herself in liquor and nameless sex. It's how she dealt with losing everyone she loved, and it's how she dealt with the soul crushing loneliness that came with living on Sakaar.

 

And yet...the thought of being loved, of loving someone else again is both tempting and petrifying. And for a moment she allows herself to drift into the fantasy of what that would entail. _She thinks of a sunny grassy hill, the palace of New Asgard behind her as she breathes in salty sea air. The wind is warm and sweet, the grass soft beneath her heels. And she feels him behind her, his warm skin and soft lips circle her, wrap around her widening waist, his hands coming to rest on her swollen belly. There is life growing inside her and a man who loves the ground she walks on behind her and everyone she now knows is safe and happy and free. Two little ones coming running up to greet her, wanting to feel the baby inside her kick, and she sits in the grass beside her girls, lets them lay their round little faces on her tummy. The happiness inside her radiates out onto her face_ and suddenly she is crying now because it won't happen. It can't happen. No one else could love her like Gunnr did, especially not Loki.

 

But maybe he could, something inside her whispers, and the voice is familiar and long gone and she hates that she's hearing her voice right now telling her what she doesn't want to hear. Or, better yet, what she's too scared to say. She slams a pillow over her head and smothers her crying with angry growls, hoping no one can hear from outside her door.

 

She realizes she could fix this. She could get up right now, shrug on a tunic and a cape and run barefoot down the corridor to Loki's room. She'd knock loudly and he'd come to the door, sleepless as she is and pull her into his arms while she cries on his shoulder.

 

"I'm sorry, Lackey," she'd say, breathless when he picks her up and totes her to his bed. He'd lay her down and shower her in hot kisses, strip the tunic from her and taste her skin. He'd make love to her slow and strong and sweet, until she is weeping beneath him and he swallows her moans with his mouth. "I love you," she'd whisper, and he'd smile. "I was wrong, I didn't mean it."

 

And she hadn't, because nothing between them could ever truly be casual anymore. It wasn't just for fun, and it hadn't been since the second he kissed her the first time. Perhaps, she thinks, the tears on her pillow soaking it through, it had been before then. She gets up out the bed, but she won't run to him. He has probably cast her off now and gotten over her rebuttal. He's probably asleep, like everyone else is, like she should be. But her body aches and she's angry at herself for falling so hard so fast for someone she isn't sure she should even trust yet. It'd have been so much easier to have fallen for the other brother, she thinks, and snorts through her tears. Thor never gave her pause, Thor never gave her any reason to doubt him. He was bright and beautiful and brave and he would be the perfect partner and husband she thinks, if she were to ever take one. And then she laughs away the thought. Thor loved her, she was sure, and probably had been infatuated when they first met, but now he thought of her as one of his best friends and she wouldn't change that for anything.

 

Besides, Thor could never do things to her heart and insides the way Loki had. She couldn't imagine him touching her the same, of kissing her the same way, or even of how his name would fall from his mouth whenever he came.

 

She started to cry harder.

 

It was a lost cause, she knew. She was in love, irreparably, and she had panicked and thrown away her shot at having a love like she'd had before. No, she thinks. Not like before...nothing and no one would ever replace Gunnr. And Loki had never tried. He'd only wanted her the way she was, damanged and bruised and drunk and angry. He'd wanted her then.

 

"I love you," he'd said, his head bent and bowed over her as if he were worshipping her and he had been, she knows this now.

 

And it was too late, she thinks. She'd blown it.

 

* * *

 

Outside her door, he presses his head to the cool steel and listens to her sob, his hand raised against the panel to knock. But he can't. Pride and anger and fear keeps him from going to comfort her. He wants to tell her he is sorry, that it was too soon, that she can take her time and figure all this out. He knows, if he were a better person, that this is what he'd do. Because when you truly love someone, you give them time and space. And he'd promised himself he'd give her that time when he left the store room. Hide and seek wasn't fun anymore after that and he knows Agatha and Bruce and probably Hertha noticed. Hilde had made full circle and tagged Endre as It and the game was over.

 

 _And the game was over_ , he thinks, bitterly. He spent the night alone in his room for hours, clutching the sheets and closing his eyes uselessly. He would not cry, he didn't even have the energy to. All he wanted was to redo that very moment, take what he said back into his mouth until she was ready. But now he thinks, maybe she never would have been, maybe it's better now to find out before he fell any deeper and his heart broke worse. At least, he thinks, this is a clean break. At least now he can move past it and move on and one day he'll laugh about this, one day he'll think about how silly and utterly stupid he was to think someone like her could love something like him.

 

Tears spring to his eyes no matter what he does to stop them. 

 

He walks blindly back to his own room and shuts the door, throws a haphazard cloaking spell on, and proceeds to trash the entire place. There are books and sheets and clothes and daggers strewn from one end of the floor to the other; glasses he'd had collected when they took lunch in his rooms broken into shards in the corner. He wishes he could burn the whole thing down, wishes he'd never opened himself up and taken her into his heart. Of course this was just fun to him, of course. Look at what she was.

 

She was the walking definition of cool, of beauty and grace and absolutely out of his league. He didn't deserve her love, hadn't even deserved her body and friendship. Really, did he deserve anything at all but the death sentence that was probably awaiting him on Earth? 

 

For a moment he thinks of the Tessaract that weighs heavy in the portal he carries with him; a bargaining chip he'd snatched from Asgard to insure his own safety and, later, the safety of his people. He knows Thanos will not stop until he has the stone in his hand. He knows he'd die if he didn't deliver and, the more he ponders this, realizes he'll probably die anyway. And then Thor will be left alone again, but good riddance. Then maybe the Valkyrie can have the other brother, the one she deserves. Only one eye and he's still more whole and twice the man than Loki is. He wants to cry again at the thought of that, because he never really has been all man at all.

 

And yet...

  
He thinks of her smile when he transformed and how she'd taken all those parts of him, feminine and masculine, and accepted them. And he dreams for a moment of what it could truly be like. _He thinks maybe they could really defeat Thanos, build a home in Norway, start a new colony. He had no taste for being king again, but he'd happily play the part of prince and take Hilde for his bride, marry her, love her, cherish her. They'd spend their days building a new world for themselves and when he finally revealed his true nature to his brother, then she'd be right there with him. She'd hold his hand as he became she and Thor would embrace her, wrap his big arms about her and lovingly call her sister. "I'm the luckiest man in the world," Thor would say. "I've a brother and a two sisters now," and when Hilde gave birth to their firstborn, his little Frigga, his family would be complete. That is until she had the second girl,  his darling Freyja, he decides and then he'd fill her belly again and again and give her all the children she could ever want. And they would be so happy, the two of them, forever and ever_ but it won't happen because she doesn't love him, could never love him.

 

Loki knows, even as he sits in the pile of rubble that is his room, he won't be able to root her out of his soul so easily. No matter how hard he tries, she will forever be threaded in his heart.

 

 _So why do you give up on her so easily_ , a voice in his head says, and he would scoff but he can never ignore his mother, never has truly been able to. "Because it hurts, Mama," he whispers, and with a soft sigh, he straightens the room with magic, sweeping the crushed glass up by hand, tucking the torn sheets back into the bed. He crawled in between empty linens and lay there, aching and lonely, for long sleepless hours. He thought he heard a soft lullaby, felt a warm hand on his forehead as he closed his eyes and let out a breath. He feels calmer now, though he still hurts, and there is the tiniest spark of hope deep down in him that he clings to like a life raft. 

 

Maybe, just maybe, it isn't too late. Maybe he hasn't blown it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'm gonna fix this. You know I'm a sucker for mostly happy endings. Let em stew for a bit though, they'll appreciate each other more this way.
> 
> come cuss me out on tumblr!
> 
> @lilithenaltum


	15. xiii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hilde confronts Lir's mother; the girls all resolve to be the change they see in the world. And Hilde's encounter Loki doesn't go very well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love comments! Feel free to let me know what you think of the story. <3

She awakes to the sound of fists on her door, rapid and desperate and she scowls, jerking from the bed angrily. Whoever the hell it is better have a damn good reason to be waking her up like this, and she doesn't even bother to throw any pants on. They'll get a show; she's only in Loki's tunic and her underthings. She hadn't even bothered to sleep in a bra.

 

With the fury of a prodded bear, Hilde threw the door open and is stopped dead in her tracks by the sight of Lir, her face splotchy with tears and her blue eyes rimmed red. Mouth open, Hilde thinks to ask what the problem is, all her anger momentarily dissipated, but Lir starts to sob, and words come tumbling from her mouth as she throws her small body at Hilde.

 

“She found out! She found out about Hertha, she found out and she-” Her words are cut off by another wave of tears, and she shudders as she cries, hiccupping and sniffling. It tears at Hilde's heart and she wants to scoop the girl up, put her in bed and rock her to sleep. But she's angrier than she'd been previously, and without really thinking about what she's doing, she starts barreling down the corridor.

 

It's nearly first breakfast. There's people milling about the hallways, preparing to head down to the mess and so her march doesn't go unnoticed. Of course, no one comments. No one wants to be in the way of an angry Valkyrie hell bent on teaching a bigoted mother a lesson, though they don't know that's exactly what's happening. All they see is a spitfire of a woman with a crying redhead trailing her quickly, trying desperately to convince her to not confront her mother.

 

Mostly everyone just minds their own business.

 

But Karsi is waiting outside of the door to Lir's room and she looks as angry as Hilde feels, though she is, of course, much more subdued about it. Two little boys, who Hilde realize are Karsi's younger brothers, mill by the door as well, and the smallest rushes out to grab Lir, wrapping his little body about the still crying girl. Karis pulls them both into her arms and nods towards Lir's bedroom door that she shares with her mother. “She's in there, Mistress.” Her voice is eerily quiet and sharp and Hilde thinks, for just a second, that Karsi may very well be one of her most dangerous students. Never judge a book by its cover, indeed.

 

After her flight down the corridor, Hilde is a bit winded and a little of her anger as seeped out of her, but it doesn't stop her from rapping her fists against the door in three fast and hard successions. The door is opened leisurely and a short, thin woman who looks a lot like Lir is waiting, a scowl on her face and her own eyes tinged with tears. Hilde opens her mouth to say some choice words but is cut off by a quick and direct gesture to come inside and have a seat. She shoots a quick glance to Lir, who is sniffling in Karsi's arms, and then goes inside.

 

She doesn't know what she expected, but the woman sitting on the bunk bed, a cup of tea in hand, is not her.

 

“I imagine my daughter has told you all kinds of horror stories about me, Mistress Valkyrie.”

 

Her voice is quiet and gentile and Hilde recognizes the slight accent; she is from the low country, a rich and verdant part of Asgard that bred old money and the aristocracy. Hilde wonders exactly what kind of family this woman came from and how she ended up a seamstress and the wife of a wool merchant. No matter how wealthy the man had become, the ruling classes never married down and especially did not allow their daughters to.

 

But back to the matter at hand.

 

“She said you'd disown her for liking women, yes. Not necessarily a horror story so much as it shows just how small minded you are.” The woman has the nerve to chuckle, though it is mirthless and dry. She sniffs elegantly, stirs her tea, and takes another sip. And then Hilde realizes that she hadn't been offered anything to drink or eat and that this woman is deliberately spiting her. The slight makes her want to slap her.

 

“The truth of the matter is Lir is young and, frankly, an idiot. She knows nothing of how the world works and how cruel it is to women. We don't have the luxury of gallivanting about with the same sex as boys do. I raised her better than this...” She trails off and waves her hand about, then glares at Hilde as if it's her fault that Lir is bisexual. “Her father spoiled her, that's the simple truth of it.”

 

Hilde frowns. “So you truly think that because she was doted on, the way an only beloved daughter should be, that she chose to like girls just to spite you?” Hilde snorts incredulously and leans forward, so that her face is right next to the woman's still frowning visage. “ _You_ are the idiot,” she grits out, and if it were possible, she gets angrier when the woman refuses to react, only sipping her tea with the practiced grace of a true aristocrat. It's infuriating.

 

“I can't believe what kind of place Asgard became,” Hilde seethes. “Here I thought that you'd all gone soft on me and I find the opposite. You've turned into heartless, intolerant assholes that care more about a so called natural order of things than the happiness of your children. Yes, she told me! You want her to marry well and pop out babies, for your reputation and to save your lifestyle. If anyone is spoiled, ma'am, it seems to be you!” Hilde doesn't think she'll be able to be any more polite than she is and the remorseless smirk on the woman's face only makes her want to smack it off. She has to keep reminding herself that she is a representative of the crown now and that what she says and does will get back to Thor and so she takes deep breaths, hoping she can keep her temper. It's not working well.

 

But then the woman's facade begins to crumble and she's tearing up again. Hilde wants to roll her eyes, chastise her for trying to get sympathy when her daughter is the one who needs comfort, but the tears are genuine and Hilde gets the feeling that maybe for all her talk of propriety, that Lir's mother is conflicted. And so she reels the rage flaring up in her chest back and sits back in the chair.

 

“I know how the Valkyrior did things, back then,” she finally says and Hilde raises a brow. That was not what she'd been expecting. “I remember you, and all your sisters too.” Lir's mother sniffs again, this time to hold back tears that were threatening to fall. “When I was young, I wanted to be a Valkyrie. I would go to the back of my home, where no one could see and run about with a stick pretending it was a sword. I pleaded with my father to buy me a white pony so I'd have my own Pegasus. And I would ride, far out into the field and wield my stick and shout “for Asgard!” and pretend the dead butterflies were fallen soldiers I needed to choose for Valhalla. The simple life of a child.” She smiles bitterly. “But the moment Mother found out about what I was doing she forced my father to sell the pony and she beat me raw until I promised her I'd never run about the yard in the mud again. I spent the rest of my time practicing needlework and learning figures and sums because I was to marry well and marry rich. Bor had several sons who could use a bride; I could possibly be a princess, and what prince would want a grubby boy-girl for a wife?”

 

She is silent for a while and then, she looks up at Hilde. “When the fall happened...she told me then that it was what you deserved for being such...” She pauses as if she doesn't want to say the words, but Hilde doesn't have patience for her cowardice and stares her down until she keeps going.

“Filthy sluts.”

 

Hilde  rolls her eyes and then starts to chuckle, shaking her at the absurdity of such a silly phrase. “Is that it? She thought my sisters all deserved to die because we weren't sexually repressed old hags with a stick up our asses?” “No,” the woman says quickly. “That wasn't all. She said you were disgusting heathens. That you should all die and die again because you had...you had tainted the bonds of feminine friendship and that you were worthless because the greater lot of you would never carry a child. ‘Two women cannot make a baby, Vada’, she told me. I remember it like it was yesterday. She grabbed me by my throat and told me that I'd better never get any ideas of ever following in your footsteps because I would regret it.” The woman, Vada, takes another sip of her tea, this time with shaking hands and for a moment, Hilde feels sorry for her.

 

“Your mother was an abusive bitch. That's not an excuse to tell your daughter you'd disown her for liking women.” Vada looks up from her tea and shakes her head. “That isn't what I told her. I told her that her silly notions of marrying that girl were fruitless, _because they are_. She's young, Mistress Valkyrie. She'll out grow it.”

 

“And if she doesn't? If she one day chooses a woman as her partner, what will you do then?”

 

Vada gives her a stiff smile. “She won't. I won't allow her to throw her life away like I did. You see, I married for love. I married down. Egil was the son of a shepherd.” She snorts quite ungracefully and glares at a spot on the wall. “I loved my husband, till the day he died. He died saving us, you now. Saved us from Hela's undead soldiers so Lir and I could get away. He was ambitious and smart and so handsome. And he loved me. He truly loved me and my girl and when I couldn't have any more children after birthing Lir, he told me he'd never leave me. He didn't need sons, he said, he had all he needed with us.” Her voice chokes up and she takes a long swig of tea to cover it.

 

“But he wasn't up to my parent's standards and they disowned me. I didn't speak to either of my parents again after I married. Lir has never met her grandparents. I only know they both died of a flux about a century ago. And they left me nothing, not a dime. Everything went to a distant cousin of mine, some knuckle head with an equally vapid wife. But they'd done it right, so who was I to argue?” She shakes her head fiercely now. “I love Lir, more than I love anyone, more than any mother has any right. I've always been...tough on her, I know. But I won't let her make my mistakes. This girl...she won't be the security that my girl needs. You don't understand, Mistress. You have no children, do you?”

 

Hilde shakes her head. Perhaps, she thinks, she doesn't quite understand. But she refuses to leave Vada without letting her know just what she's doing by rejecting her daughter. “You may think you have her best interest at heart, but are you really trying to give her a better life, or are you imposing your own regrets and sorrows on her? Really think about that. Because it’s possible that she could maybe one day marry some rich, successful man with a good name and lots of influence. And maybe she could be happy that way. But perhaps she'd be miserable and hate everything about her life. And she'd never stop being what she is. She loves both. Let her love both.”

 

Vada says nothing to that for a long while. Instead, she picks up a tea cup and pours Hilde a spot of it, sliding it across the small table and nodding to it.

 

“She won't want to see me for some time,” Vada finally says, as Hilde sips the lavender tea. “I...said some harsh things to her. And I should apologize.” She swallows, as if the task of doing that will be the most daunting thing she's ever done. “But right now, she will want to be coddled by her friends. And she thinks very highly of you. If you have the room...”

 

Hilde looks up and finishes her tea quickly, then stands, suddenly aware that she has on nothing but the crown prince's tunic. And then she thinks of the night before, of how she'd thrown away her chance to have something beautiful and real and that he'd never want to have anything to do with her now, so there was no need to worry about Loki coming over for a visit. She'd be lucky if he ever spoke to her again. Instead she lifts her chin and resolves to not dwell on that right now. She has a young friend to console and support.

 

“Where are her things? I've more than enough room.”

 

* * *

 

 

Hilde and Lir skipped breakfast to haul as much of Lir’s clothes and jewelry into Hilde’s room as they could manage, Karsi and Karsi’s baby brother Kory trailing behind them. Once again, the people who dallied in the hallways kept to themselves and minded their business, only acknowledging Hilde’s presence by a nod of the head or a simple hello. Granted, she wasn’t walking only in a tunic anymore, as Lir had allowed her to slide a pair of leggings on underneath, but she was still barefoot and the leggings were dragging a bit. For all she whined about being short, Lir had at least four inches on her mistress and was a good bit thinner. Fortunately for Hilde, the material of the leggings had an excellent amount of stretch so that, while they hugged her hips and ass in ways even she found a bit indecent, they worked to cover her legs so that she didn’t look a fool trying to get back to her room. And the tunic was huge; it covered anything important, anyway.

 

But it was nice to know that Asgardians still left well enough alone when it was obvious they should.

 

Hilde’s bed was large enough for the both of them, and so Lir propped several of her pillows up on the still unmade linens. “I don’t care which side you want me to take,” she said, in a small, hoarse voice. She’d been crying on and off since Hilde left Vada, though at the moment, she seemed a little less teary and more tired. “And you’re my guest, so you get to pick,” Hilde said kindly, trailing her hands through the girl’s tangled red locks gently. Lir leaned into the touch and smiled a little, then grabbed some of her things from Karsi, who waited patiently by the door.

 

Hilde excused both girls from morning training, if they so chose, but they both decided they’d come along anyway, and so they dressed silently alongside Hilde, little Kory gone back to his parent’s room to catch second breakfast. Hilde decided on her own leggings and a sleeveless top, something light and simple to work through forms with, and then put on a pair of sturdy leather slippers. No boots today, nothing too heavy; training would be easy this morning as Hilde was honestly too tired to delve into anything difficult.

 

They grabbed muffins and eggs from the mess quickly, not stopping to eat because they had less than ten minutes to make it to the training room. Hilde found herself searching the near empty hall for Loki, though every time she thought of him she wanted to break something, preferably his face. She vacillated between anger at him for throwing something like that on her and anger at herself for not handling his declaration better. And then another part of her tried to soothe her by insisting he’d been caught in the spur of the moment, that he hadn’t truly meant it and perhaps he hadn’t known he hadn’t. She tried pushing the whole debacle from her mind altogether. She had more important things to do than worry if the spoiled Prince of Asgard was heartbroken over a little rejection.

 

Training flew by quickly; as she’d decided to keep things simple today, they only worked for an hour. Hertha was conspicuously missing and Lir almost curled in on herself but with a little nudging from Karsi, she got through her forms with an almost single focused mind. Afterward, all the girls in class rushed toward Lir, obviously having heard what had happened though they seemed to have gotten their stories mixed up. “No, no Mama didn’t kick me out,” Lir said for the fifth time, a little exasperated. “I decided to leave. We need space.”

 

“But it’s true, right?” Jorna asked, helping Alfhilde to rebraid her hair after it came loose during forms. “You like girls too?”

 

 Lir was quiet for a while, and then lifted her head. “I do. Is there anything at all wrong with that?”

 

The girls were silent for a long while and then little Nanna spoke up, shaking her dark curly head. “Hel no,” she breathed and then Lir started to laugh. Nanna barely spoke, much less cursed. “Nothing wrong at all. Who are you hurting by liking Hertha?” Lir paled, and then Nanna sat down, covering her growing smile with her hand.

 

Lir sputters. “How did you…who said I liked-“

 

“ _Everyone_ knows,” Jorna said, giggling. “And really, we were taking bets on who you’d ask out first-Hertha or Prince Loki.” Hilde flinched a bit at the mention of his name, but shook it off quickly.

 

 

“But I don’t understand,” Hilde said, when they were done with stretches and were about to leave the room. “What happened? What changed? It wasn’t like this when I was young.” And then she thought back to her conversation with Vada and thought perhaps she’d just been sheltered from the bigotry. “Grandmother says everything changed when Odin became king,” a voice behind her said, and she turned to find Hertha, fully dressed and standing shyly in the corner. Lir turned also, her face brightening as she rushed out to grasp the older girl, and Hertha enveloped her into a warm and loving embrace.

 

 

“Are you alright, little Lir?” Hertha asked, and Lir looked up with teary eyes, smiling. “I am now. I’ll be fine,” she insisted and Hertha pressed a soft kiss on the girl’s forehead, keeping her close to her side.

 

 

“What do you mean?” Hilde asked, and she moved to where Hertha and Lir stood.

 

 

The younger girl shrugged. “I don’t know for certain,” she said. “I grew up on Vanaheim; Grandmother is Aesir and says she remembers the Valkryies and how different things were. And she said it all started to shift when Odin took the throne. I don’t know much about the Allfather except from what she’s told me. She never sounds very fond of him when she talks of him.” Karsi frowns at that, but Hertha shoots her a look and keeps talking. “It started out slow, kind of crept about in the smaller towns and the low country. By the time of the fall and sometime after the wars began to slow, that’s when things really kind of just…slid backwards. Women were expected to be feminine and strong but they were to be so for the sake of the men they’d one day marry. There’s a reason the Valkyrior was never reformed; there was too much independence in the order, too many women who had no use of a man.” Hertha scoffed and Hilde echoed the sentiment.

 

 

“Do you think he had something to do with it?” Karsi asks, lingering beside Lir and looking as though she’d learned something she hadn’t wanted to. Hilde figured she probably had. And she thinks of Loki and what he’d told her Odin had done after discovering his sexuality and she slowly nods. “In a way…I think he may have. Everyone is complicit if they don’t do anything to stop it. But he isn’t here now, so there are no excuses anymore. We need to change it. And you, little sisters, are the future.” The girls look to each other and then her curiously, waiting to see what she means.

 

 

“If we’re going to change the world, we have to start with ourselves.”

 

 

When they leave the training room, they do so in groups and pairs, striding down the long corridors with a sense of purpose and zeal. They are linked arm in arm and laughing and talking and the sight makes something long dormant in Hilde awakens. It is painful and nostalgic but beautiful too, and she catalogs the happiness on their faces, on how Lir leans into Hertha, on how Karsi and Jorna grab Kari’s hand, pull her along. And she wonders if she ever was so young and free. She blinks back tears, allows them to go on ahead of her, and dips quietly into her room.

 

* * *

 

She manages to pull herself together enough to get to lunch and it’s there she sees Loki for the first time that day. He sits alone reading, tea at one elbow and a sandwich on his plate. The pull to go to him is strong, but she figures he needs time and is probably too angry at her to even want to talk, so she avoids him, sits at the table with Agatha and chats up the healer deliberately. Agatha is an astute person in more ways than one, however, because she pauses what she’s saying and nudges Hilde’s side.

 

 

“Mistress Valkyrie,” she starts, and Hilde turns her head forcefully away from the table Loki sits at. She tries to pretend she hadn’t been staring at him the entire time. “Yes, Agatha, I’m sorry.” She offers the healer a brief flash of a smile and settles back into her seat, expecting Agatha to continue but she only smiles slowly, nods towards Loki and leans in to whisper.

 

 

“He does look so lonely over there all by himself,” she says, and Hilde opens her mouth to say something but instead only pops another chunk of bread into it and chews deliberately.

 

“I haven’t the slightest-“

 

“Ah,” Agatha interrupts, lifting a long slender hand up to stop her. “But you do. And if I were you, I’d go fix whatever it is that’s broken right now or you may not get the chance to later.” She turns around then, effectively ending the conversation and Hilde is left with half chewed bread in her mouth. She feels a lot like the young girl who’d gone to Mother Frejya and asked for advice on what to do about Gunnr and it’s not the most welcome of feelings.

 

 But Agatha is right.

  

She thinks, as she stands, dumping her tray and walking slowly to Loki’s lonely table that they could probably be friends once again. Drinking buddies. Even friends with benefits once everything gets back to normal. Everything will be fine, she thinks, and so she musters up the courage to clear her throat, drawing his gaze from the book he’s engrossed in. She isn’t prepared to meet his green eyes yet, and her courage falters just a bit under the intensity of them, but she clenches her fist and forces her shoulders to relax.

 

 “Hey, Lackey,” she says, trying her best to slide a casual smirk across her face. Act like nothing has changed, she tells herself. Act as though everything is fine. He nods in her direction and gives her a cursory smile, gesturing for her to sit. “Mistress Valkyrie,” he intones, but his voice is so detached and formal that it makes her chest ache.

 

 Okay, so maybe he’s still sore about everything. Well, she can fix that.

  

“Look, I just wanted to-“

 

 “You missed the meeting this morning.” He watches her over the rim of his teacup and she blinks stupidly until she remembers that Thor had offered to explain the situation with Umbreon with them all after breakfast. “Oh hell,” she mumbles. “I totally forgot. I woke up with Lir crying at my door, and then we had training right after-“

 

"I’m sure my brother will fill you in on the concerns he had. We’ve effectively dispelled any anxieties he may have had about the trading port, however.”

 

“We?”

  

“Bruce and I. Heimdall. We assured his Majesty that everything would be alright and dedicated ourselves to making sure nothing untoward happens while we stop on Umbreon. But once again, the King can give you more insight into our conversation,” and then he turns back to his book. He’s dismissing her.

  

That makes her angry and so she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and glares at him until he looks up once again.

 

“Was there anything else you needed?”

 

“Yeah, look, I get you’re mad at me or whatever, but I came to apologize. I’m…I’m sorry for being such a cunt about it, but hey, I mean you can’t spring something like that on a girl out of the blue.”

 

“I don’t follow you,” he says, but she sees color in his cheeks and she knows he’s just being an asshole now. “Yes the fuck you do,” she grits out, low and under her breath so no one can hear but him.“You…you startled me. I haven’t had anyone say something like that to me in a long, long time, you have to understand, and look, last night-“

 

For the first time in their brief interaction, she thinks she sees him truly react and his eyes are angry, cold and hard in a way she’s never seen directed to her. It shocks her to silence.

 

 

And then he stands, grabbing his book quickly and wrapping his sandwich up to take with him. The teacup is left behind in his haste to leave and she’s nearly falling over her own feet to try and follow him but he stops her at the door to the mess, whirling on her so quickly she almost bumps into him.

 

“There was no last night. Nothing happened.” Hilde blinks with her mouth agape and then she frowns. “I said I’m sorry, Loki,” she insists, but he chuckles, something bitter and angry and it makes her stomach knot up. “Don’t worry about it, Brunnhilde,” he says, and the sound of her name on his tongue feels so right and so wrong at the same time. “We’ll forget it ever happened, then.” Hilde lets out a breath, stops clenching her fist and allowing relief to wash through her. And yet…something else feels out of place.

 

He moves to leave the mess now, but she tries once more to talk to him. She needs to know something.

 

“Lir moved in with me for a while,” she says and Loki nods. “I’d heard,” he says, sympathetically. “So yeah, um…we probably will have to hang out in your room until she’s ready to go back or…you know.” She gives him a quick grin but he doesn’t return it and her stomach sinks. “Won’t be any need,” he responds, his face an implacable stone. “Why?” she whispers, though she already knows what he’ll say. “What about our deal?”

 

“There _is_ no deal,” Loki says softly, and then he slips past her out the mess, leaving her standing in the doorway alone and forlorn.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have a soft spot for big sis Hilde. It's really lovely to have such genuine friendships between women. Unfortunately, things between our two knuckleheads aren't quite honky dory yet. They're too stubborn for that.
> 
> Come say hi on tumblr if you'd like! @lilithenaltum


	16. xiv

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hilde's girls are overprotective of their mistress; Loki ratchets up the asshole meter. Agatha offers a little advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did NOT have fun writing Loki as an asshole. At all. But sweet Loki will be back shortly.

He woke slowly, the lull of people outside the corridors and the hum of the ship coming to him in waves. It was almost as if little parts of his brain fired up one at a time instead all at once; he felt sluggish and slow as he peeled his eyes open.

  


He'd spent the entire night before drunk, holed up in his room with one large bottle of liquor and only his self loathing and heartache for company. After leaving lunch that day, he'd decided he didn't really want to see anyone else and he skipped dinner, something his stomach was now reminding him of. But he wasn't even in the mood now to leave his room, except perhaps to use the toilets and get a shower. His mouth tasted like bile and he reeked of alcohol and sweat.

  


After a few long minutes of sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to will his body to move, he finally stood up albeit on shaky legs. Loki sucked in a tired breath and conjured up a casual glamour, simple and elegant pajamas to go with the well rested facade he had to create. It would get him to the showers, at least, and perhaps to the kitchens for a quick bite to eat. He had no patience for the mess today, as he couldn't risk seeing _her_ , especially after yesterday.

  


She had come to apologize, but Loki knew she'd only done so to soothe her own conscience and get what she wanted out of him. She hadn't really cared; she didn't reciprocate how he felt, and the realization was a blow to his already sore feelings, so he'd reacted thus. If she wanted to behave as though he were simply just another piece of ass she'd conquered, well, he could put a stop to that. And though she'd seemed astonished and upset that he'd ended the deal, he knew she was merely sorry she couldn't string him along more than she had.

  


He wish he didn't miss her so much. He decided that he'd have to do something about that, emotions and feelings overwhelming him like a tidal wave. And for what good had they done him? For the first time in a long time he'd allowed himself to swim in them, to drown in the depths of his affections for her and she'd brushed them off like lint. Of course she had. He was no one of any importance to her, no matter what he'd thought previously.

  


The shower helped only minutely and the breakfast he snagged from the kitchen staff went down like sand. He had no real appetite, though he knew he needed to eat, and nothing at all to do that day, so he once again secluded himself into his room and applied a spell to the door so he wouldn't be disturbed, just in case. Maybe he could sleep the rest of the day away; it wasn't as if anyone would really notice he was missing. He'd already seen Thor the day before and after their meeting that morning, they really had nothing else to discuss about Umbreon.

  


The king had been worried about how they would trade with merchants there when they had nothing to offer. Loki had also been worried about the same thing, but he'd assured Thor he would do his best to secure the necessary provisions with no issue, something he still wasn't entirely sure he could do. The one thing they had going for them were the delegates that lived on Umbreon, native Aesir who worked on the trading moon and had connections and currency needed to buy the displaced Asgardians more food and fuel. He also had the word of the crown, and while he wasn't exactly sure how much Odin's word meant to anyone on Umbreon, at least it had worked on Noname, a place even more remote and desolate, when it shouldn't have worked at all.

  


And if all else failed, he could try a little mental persuasion.

  


Mind control was exhausting and even against his own scruples, and he almost never used the ability for person gain. The handful of times he had were solely for personal safety. And while negotiating for supplies and essentials was important, doing it on behalf of the crown meant that once those spells wore off, Umbreon officials would want to collect what was theirs. And no matter how much he and his brother didn't see eye to eye, he would never want to drag that kind of wrath down onto Thor's head, especially without his knowledge.

  


If Loki knew Thor like he did, he wouldn't approve of mentally manipulating anyone into helping them.

  


And so the younger Odinson decided to omit that tactic from the conversation, hyping up his ability to act as ambassador and politician. There were a few amendments to the original itinerary; Bruce suggested that maybe they could leave after three days instead of seven; Loki added that perhaps they could wait it out and see. If the king still had ill feelings about the venture after the third day they would depart. They also discussed rationing and waste management so that any supplies they acquired would last the remaining journey to Earth. Somehow, Thor's concerns had been quelled, but only enough to continue on with the plan as previously mapped out. But there was still worry on his brother's brow and Loki couldn't help but feel the same sense of foreboding himself.

  


* * *

  


For hours he simply lay in bed and read, books he could remember word for word and some of the few he'd saved of his mother's. In truth, he had only read two out of the entire dozen, the blue storybook that Hilde still had one of them and another, a memoir from some famous long dead shield maiden. He sorted through the other eight he still held, curious to see what he'd blindly and quickly snatched from the bookshelves before Asgard turned back into stardust. Besides the storybook and his mother's grimoire, he really had no idea what he'd been taking with him. He was consumed with a book of poetry when his stomach growled loudly, and Loki realized he had been reading nearly all day. He had managed to skip dinner.

  


“Fine,” he mumbled, brushing his hair hastily, and putting on clothes so that he was somewhat presentable. “I'll feed you.” Maybe the kitchens were still cleaning up and there were some leftovers he could grab. Or perhaps he'd have to make due with crackers and ham.

  


People nodded as he passed them in the corridors, some familiar faces, the others ones he was only marginally acquainted with. A few Valkyries in training stood together beside a doorway, gossiping no doubt, and he graced them with a smile that wasn't returned. Instead, they simply curtsied, one of them offering a cool greeting and then they turned again, back to their conversation though their eyes watched him walk away peculiarly. The action left him with a bad taste in his mouth but he ignored it and kept on to the kitchen.

  


When he arrived, cleaning had begun and all the leftovers were being corralled into the fridge for lunch tomorrow. Loki grabbed a tray and piled a few items on it, preparing to once again hole himself up in his room until they disembarked on Umbreon. He was securing a few slices of spice cake when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he found at least ten young girls glaring up at him, Karsi leading the pack. He stood still for a few seconds, eyes roaming the group cautiously lest he move the wrong way and end up with a dagger in his side. They looked incredibly dangerous to be so young.

  


“May I help you ladies?” he finally asked, if only to break the creepy silence that ensued, and perhaps to slide around them as they were blocking his exit.

  


“What's your problem?” one of them asked, a dark skinned girl he remembered was named Nanna. “I beg your pardon?” he asked, both shocked at the audacity she possessed and impressed at how unbothered they were in their obvious loathing of him. And to think, only a few days before, all of them had gotten along so well.

  


“You made Mistress cry at training today,” another girl said. He wasn't familiar with this one, though he was certain he'd seen her around before.

  


“I have no idea what you're talking about...um...”

  


“Ilsa,” she supplied, and she had the nerve to curtsy, though even that seemed sarcastic and salty. “And we think you do.” Ilsa looked around her at her fellow trainees and continued to speak. “She's  _never_  that hard on us. And she never gets angry at us, especially not for silly things the way she did today. You're her friend, your highness. We've spoken to everyone else she's close with, save the King, but honestly, no one else seems to be the problem but you.” And the the whole lot of them began to talk all at once, hurling accusations at him for something he couldn't have done.

  


Loki stared at the girls with his mouth agape, his brain desperately trying to find something to say to exonerate himself. Besides, there wasn't any reason at all that she'd be upset and crying over him, especially not in front of her students. He felt his temper rising, more so when the impertinent Karsi finally decided to chime in. She'd been scarily quiet the entire time, her cool blue eyes boring holes into his face. If looks could kill, Loki would have been dead.

  


“It seems as though Lir was wrong about you,” Karsi said, and she stepped close to him, close enough that he immediately looked down and around her person to make sure she carried no weapons. The last thing he needed, hours before landing on Umbreon, was a stab wound or any injuries. “She said you were  _nice_. Anyone who treats a Valkyrie like trash isn't a nice person. I don't know what you did to her but you will fix it or else we will-”

  


“You will what?” he said in a low voice, danger dripping from his tongue and he stood to his full height, towering over the girls like the bad guy they apparently thought he was. A part of him wanted to shed his Aesir glamour and show him who they really were dealing with, but he decided that maybe a little royal intimidation would do. They all stepped back a little and Loki could see Karsi's pulse jumping in her throat. She'd overplayed her hand.

  


He was tired of this, whatever they were playing at, and apparently the had all forgotten to whom they were speaking. “You are aware you're talking to the heir of Asgard like a common servant boy, yes? Or have you forgotten where you come from and who you are? You're trainees to the last Valkyrie; you aren't any more important than she allows you to be and I don't owe any of you a fucking explanation.” He sweeps past them, his tray of food wobbling dangerously close to tilting as he rushes from the kitchen. If he stays a moment longer, he's going to do more than chastise them; he'll possibly irreparably hurt some feelings and he's been doing so well with not doing that lately. Leave it to Brunnhilde to be the cause he backslides.

  


Falling love with her had been a mistake, he decides. He tosses his tray to the bed once he makes it back to his room, his skin hot and his face red. He is steaming angry now, not simply because he'd been talked down to by a gaggle of schoolgirls, but because she's acting like a fucking victim, because she took his broken heart and his humiliation and is playing a game with it. It rankles. Perhaps, he thinks, she's forgotten her place, and before he has time to think of the consequences of what he's doing, he's at her door, knocking loudly.

  


Lir answers, the same cold and vicious look on her face that had been on Karsi's but he has no patience for this. He pushes past her and stomps into Hilde's darkened room, finding her in bed with one of his mother's books and the most bored expression he can imagine on her face. And that only makes him madder so that he's having a difficult time getting his words out. He imagines he looks like a sputtering fish and when she raises a brow in annoyance, he finally manages to get a word out.

  


“The fuck did you tell them I did to you?!”

  


So much for princely propriety. Hilde snorts, damn near laughs, and shrugs. “I didn't tell them anything,  _your highness_ ,” she purrs, but it's so disingenuous and phony that it makes his skin crawl, and he knows she's either lying or she'd encouraged them. “I had a panic attack this morning, if you must know. And perhaps I was a bit...harsh on them during training.”

  


“They said I was the reason you cried during class-”

  


“I didn't  _cry_ ,” she says, frowning, and he thinks perhaps she may be honest about this. “I wouldn't have-Lir, was I crying?”

  


Lir looks between the two of them before nodding slowly. “I...don't know if you were truly yourself, Mistress,” she says, almost apologetically but her sharp eyes glare daggers once they focus on Loki. “But we all assumed-”

  


“And this is where you've all messed up!” he growls out. He's tired and angry and being around Hilde is making his chest ache. She looks utterly beautiful, her hair down and loose about her shoulders, comfortable in bed with his mother's book in her lap. He should have been in bed with her, his head in her lap as she read to him but he isn't.

  


And truly, whose fault is that?

  


“You don't get to decide who does what to someone just because you have some fucked up notion that I'm the villain. There are no villains in this little story you've all concocted, and none of you know shit about what's truly happening. Stop making assumptions and mind your own business!” He's aware he's yelling right now, he's aware that Lir is practically shrinking back in tears, but he really can not stop and he's about to start another rant when he finds a blade against his throat. Hilde is behind him now, he can see from the corner of his eye and she is quiet in her anger.

  


“You don't get to talk to her like that, prince or no. I don't care _who_ you are, you won't talk to any of my girls that way.”

  


And he'd probably stand down were it any other time, but she's so close to him and she smells so sweet, and he wants nothing more than to turn around, press her against the mattress and kiss her. She doesn't want him anymore, she's had her fill. He goes still for a second, just long enough that her hand relaxes and then he twists her wrist quickly, not to hurt her but to disengage her dagger from his throat. He promptly tosses it over to the nightstand, the sharp metal sinking into the soft wood easily. Her eyes are wide and tears start to fill them but he can't be bothered to feel any remorse. She made her choice, and now she's going to have to deal with the fallout.

  


Without a word, he turns and leaves, nearly bumping into Agatha and Bruce who are outside the door with the other trainees and several curious bystanders.

  


“Loki, what the hell, man, what's going on?!” Bruce exclaims, trying to grab his arm as he rushes past. “Nothing!” Loki yells, waving him off and making a beeline for his bedroom. With a angered and heated yell he slams the door shut and cloaks his room quickly, sinking onto the floor.

* * *

  


  


Umbreon comes into view several hours later, when he's cried himself dry and his head hurts from screaming so loud he could shatter windows. He's never been this worked up or distressed about anything, except maybe, he thinks, his mother's death. And try as he might, he can't hear her voice in his head, soothing him or telling him the next step. He realizes, less than a hour before he must emerge from his room, that he has probably irreparably damaged the precious friendship he'd built with Brunnhilde. The thought alone makes him want to stay put inside his cabin, to not leave until they dock in Midgard and there he'd disappear into the void, fuck off somewhere nobody knows who he is and what he's done.

  


But running never solved anything. The problems would all still be there, and where else did he really belong if not with Asgard?

  


He was ashamed of himself, in more ways than one, about how he'd handled everything. He could have done so much differently, he thinks, beginning with the game of hide and seek. Maybe if he'd kept his mouth shut, everything would be as it was before. He and Hilde wrapped around each other and the camaraderie he'd built with her students still intact. Having a fan club wasn't something that he'd ever thought would appeal to him even in the worst of his lusts for glory and recognition, especially from teenage girls, but it'd been nice to have people interact with him as if he were important and interesting and not a stain on the good name of Asgard.

  


And that, much like everything in his life, was shot to shit.

  


He hadn't ate anything he'd brought into his room that night, the tray of food he'd piled up still sitting on the bed. Crumbs scattered across his sheets and there were stray peppers on the floor, but he really couldn't be pressed to care. Instead, he crawled from the spot he'd been sitting at on the messy floor over to his bed and picked up a chunk of spice cake, stuffing it into his mouth and chewed slowly. He hadn't expected to be so hungry but he also hadn't eaten for the better part of 18 hours and he was ravenous now. The cake went first, the subtle sweetness whetting his appetite so that he devoured the sandwiches and peppers and dried plums like a starving man, like he hadn't seen food in days and days. He grabbed a bottle of brandy to wash everything down, and, still wallowing in self pity and loathing, got drunk enough to finally fall asleep.

 

* * *

 

The first face he sees, when he finally and tentatively opens the door, is Agatha's. They were docking and the corridors were busy, people scurrying to and fro to gather what they needed for a week (if that) off the ship. Loki wondered if he could talk Thor in allowing him to stay behind for security purposes but he knew he'd get a no. The Prince of Asgard had to be be beside the King and the King got the honor of staying as guest with Asgards delegates on Umbreon.

  


He almost expects Agatha is going to slap him but instead she smiles and that makes him even more nervous. “Might I come in?” she asks, overly polite, and of course he lets her enter because honestly, she's seen him in some really terrible situations and this isn't even the worst. Besides, there's people looking again, and not for the first time, he wonders why no one can mind their own business when they need to.

  


“How can I help you?” he asks, his voice cracked and hoarse, as if he'd been trawling about a desert. He's glad he cleaned his room before she stopped by or she'd have had to step over dirty sheets and empty liquor bottles. He takes a drink of the remaining brandy, offering her some but she decline, and offers her a terse smile. It doesn't feel right on his face.

  


Agatha is quiet for a while, after she sits and crosses her legs, observing him like a specimen under glass. It is uniquely unnerving and not for the first time does he wonder if she can read minds. She has always been like this, one of few people who have a handle on how he works; he just barely remembers a time when he didn't know her, when her gentle but knowing hands hadn't mended a broken bone or a sprained ankle. And, as he wraps his arms about himself, she'd helped heal the injury that caused the very long scar that stretched from his rib cage to his spine. Had it not been for the combined efforts of Agatha and Frigga, he knows he would not have survived that ordeal with the boar.

  


After a while she leans forward in the chair and begins to talk and what he says stuns him.

  


“You realize that you're never going to woo her by being an asshole, yes?” It's on the tip of his tongue to ask her to repeat herself, but he doesn't have time to. She ignores him and keeps talking. “I understand you got your feelings hurt when she didn't immediately reciprocate how you felt, but you must understand something, my prince. Women don't owe you _shit_.”

  


He blinks at the blatent choice of language, but Loki knows to not test Agatha or her temper and so he buttons his mouth close and simply listens. It hurts, as she dresses him down, quietly and politely, but it's all truth. He had been out of line and out of pocket and there were much better ways to handle what had transpired. The way he'd confronted the trainees had also been unusually cruel and Agatha makes note of this. “I understand that it's not in your nature to simply berate and chew out someone for a misunderstanding, and make no mistake about it, that's all that was. They're young, they take things and run with them before stopping to think about what they're doing. But I expected more from you. You should know what it's like to be treated as such, don't you?”

  


He nods. He can't bring himself to say anything, so he only nods. She takes the gesture for what it's worth, mercifully, and then she continues, this time in a softer tone. “They aren't angry at you, if you're curious. They're all convinced _they_ were out of line, and yes, they were. It isn't the business of children what grownups do in their spare time. But you must understand something about those girls. They _love_ Brunnhilde, they are incredibly protective of that woman, and they simply see you as depriving her of happiness. They don't understand nuance the way we do. And that is why I'm coming to you now, as a friend...not as your healer.”

  


He waits, holding his breath, his hands clenched in the fabric of his loose trousers. Whatever she has to say is not going to be pleasant, he can tell, but he knows he must listen to it so he does.

  


“All of us know. It hasn't been a secret, not since you started this...whatever it started out as.” At the stunned look on his face she waves her hand about and chuckles.

 

"What do you mean, you know?" he squeaks.

 

"You haven't been particularly coy with your affections for each other."

 

He thinks, now, that there's really no use in denying it. "We tried keeping this....under wraps, I mean it couldn't have been too obvious?"

 

"Loki, we heard you down the hall. You're _loud_."

 

" _I used a cloaking spell!_ "

 

“And it didn't work too well. My point is, though that whatever you had going on-be it simply warm each others' beds or something else-turned into something much deeper and much more personal for you. And if I'm right and Bruce is right, I don't think you're the only one who feels that way.”

  


If only he could believe that. “Are you trying to imply that the Valkyrie has...feelings for me?” he scoffs, and Agatha shrugs her shoulders.

  


“I'm saying you need to talk to her and find out. Be patient, if she does. You must understand that after what she's gone through, the idea of a relationship is a bit daunting. And your reputation is not to be taken lightly.” Agatha reaches out and touches his cheek, her hands warm and gentle and Loki feels his body slouch forward sadly. She's been nothing but good to him all his life and what has he done to repay her? Be an asshole.

  


“I know you. I've known you since you were a little boy, Loki. And I knew Frigga didn't raise a tactless, heartless shit no matter how much you try and pretend that's what you are. If you're going to fix this, and I think you still can, then you must stop being Loki Liesmith and start being Loki Friggason.”

  


She sits back and watches as he mulls over her words and it is only then that he can hear Frigga in his head, a know-it-all smile in her voice. _She's right, you know. Listen to her, my boy._

  


His eyes meet hers and the spark he'd thought had been snuffed out starts to burn, barely there but enough that he straightens up and for the first time in hours, smiles. “This isn't going to be easy, is it?” he asks, and Agatha grins but shakes her head. “Not even remotely, my prince,” she says, though her eyes twinkle. “That doesn't mean it is impossible. It will simply require a lot of...grovelling, I fear.”

  


Loki snorts. “I've grovelled. I can do grovelling, trust me. And besides,” he says, dropping her gaze as his cheeks color, “if it means that I could possibly win her back to me, then...it will have been worth it. Tell me Agatha, what do I do?”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Agatha and Frigga were totally friends back in the day. Agatha is kinda sorta the Odinson's cool aunt.
> 
> I'm on tumblr! come say hi, ya'll. 
> 
> @lilithenaltum <3


	17. xv

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After landing on Umbreon, Hilde and Heimdall run into an old friend; Hilde learns a little bit about Heimdall's past; and Thor gives Hilde a little advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love. Comments are life. Comments make my day and make me want to write more. Leave a comment will ya? ❤

 Hilde had never been to Umbreon, though she'd heard all kinds of stories about the place.

 

The trading moon is anything but boring, great big marketplaces stretching out in the valley between the hills that buffeted its main city, Kanto. Houses dotted those hills, their bright yellow lights sparkling like tiny diamonds on the black rock. It was always night on Umbreon and so the entire place had an aura of sophisticated mystery, and Hilde was totally intrigued by the whole place.

 

The delegation that met their ship had been small, two young men and a woman alongside several people that Hilde realized were servants and drivers. They represented the main ambassador to the crown of Asgard, a man named Rolf Jirgnson. She didn't recognize anyone in the group but the woman did look familiar and she turned to Heimdall to get his opinion; he met her eyes with a raised brow and the unspoken promise to talk about it when they were settled in their lodgings. The privy council, and Agatha as royal healer, would all be staying with the King; the rest of the Asgardians had been granted spacious tents and cabins on the expansion of land that stretched between one estate and the other. And so they all followed in a caravan of sleek air speeders and buses, one after the other to move five thousand people from the shipyard to the country.

 

Thor had been grateful and kind to the delegation though Loki seemed insulted. While he hadn't said a word during the introductions and formalities, his facial expression spoke volumes. He only ever looked that deliberately unbothered when he was bothered, she'd learned, and part of her wanted to ask him what the issue was. He'd mentioned having some second thoughts about landing on the moon, but she'd never gotten to truly talk to him about it. Everything had gone to shit after hide and seek and...well, they weren't even looking at each other anymore at this point.

 

Or, he wasn't looking at her. He literally ignored her that entire morning, walking beside his brother with his head high and his clothes impeccable. There was no trace of the angry, unhinged madman who'd stormed into her room and demanded she restrain the girls for his sake. In his place was a competent and well mannered Prince, someone who commanded respect and attention. And the juxtaposition was both startling and impressive. If she hadn't seen him hours before, she'd have thought he had never been affected by her rejection at all.

 

But he had been. And his reaction, though violent and somewhat childish, had been in some ways justified. Hilde had called an emergency meeting of her trainees and gave them a speech about respect and manners and when to butt into other people's business (never). The girls had all been barely holding back tears, Karsi and Lir especially, and Hertha had stood to her right, disappointed as well. The older girl had been the only one of the bunch who hadn't been complicit in whispering and gossiping about what could possibly have had Mistress in such a mood that day. She'd given them quite the lecture about that as well, and by the time they all filed out of the training room, she was sure that the majority wouldn't even come back the next week, after their vacation.

 

But then Ilsa and Alfhilde had pulled her aside and tearfully apologized and every few minutes another pair of girls came too, crying and wiping their faces as they repeated how sorry they were for overstepping their boundaries. Lir had been the last to come to her, red faced and sniffling, and Hilde simply pulled the girl into an embrace, letting her know that all was forgiven on her end. “What about Prince Loki?” she'd asked, and Hilde had only shrugged, the mention of him stinging still. “I...don't know, little one,” she confessed. “He had every right to be angry, you know. But perhaps he'll come around. Maybe he needs more time.”

 

She hoped so, if not for herself, for the girls who had all thought so highly of him.

 

And yet here he was, his back decidedly to her and his spine straight. He was a regal as they came in his black and green leathers and cape, even more so than the King who chatted politely with one of the young men of the delegation. He said his name was Lerik and that he was acting on behalf of his father, who was currently handling some business off moon. “Papa will be back tomorrow morning, but our stepmother is here to greet you,” he said, and then changed the subject. Hilde noticed the young girl glance her way, and so she shot her a smile, one that was returned but only just barely. The entire ride to the pavilion was terse.

 

When they finally arrived, she and Heimdall unloaded first, followed by Bruce and Agatha and then the prince and Thor. It was Loki who designated a handful of men and women to guide the tired Aesir to their lodgings and help everyone get settled, and Hilde couldn't help but strain her ears to listen to him talk. She missed his voice, missed hearing him talk, and the authority he exhibited right now looked so good on him that she couldn't help but to stare. His eyes met hers for a brief moment and she held her breath, wondering how he would react, but he simply looked away. There had been nothing at all on his face and nothing in his eyes and that wounded her worse than his wrath and rage had.

 

“You do realize that if you want him to stop ignoring you, you'll have to talk to him, right?”

 

Heimdall leaned in to nudge her and she narrowed her eyes at him, a little pissed that he could read her so well. “It matters not one iota to me if the Prince decides to grace me with any conversation,” she retorted but Heimdall barked out a soft laugh. He knew she was lying. “Yes, and the moping you've been doing the last few days have been testament to how much you don't care. Brunnhilde, talk to me. What's the problem? Do you simply dislike that he isn't paying you attention or do you truly miss him?” He places his hand on her arm in a concerned manner and Hilde cannot pretend that she doesn't want to confide in him. She is reminded then of a young man with golden eyes, of his bright smile and how he'd raced her up and down the mountain when she was but a girl. She thinks of Mother Freyja and the way the woman had grasped the young man's dark cheeks, kissed his brow and wished him all the best through her tears, proud that he'd been honored to work for Odin Allfather at so young an age.

 

And she knows that there are two people who knew her better than anyone else ever really did, and only one of them are alive now. She sighs, and thinks to at least admit that yes, she wanted more than just the Prince's attention that yes, she missed more than his affections and doting. She missed Loki, sweet and funny and attentive and multifaceted Loki, and that some of the reasons they weren't speaking were her fault as well as his. She realized that maybe they both were to blame in some ways, though she was loathed to admit that. And it was probably too late to fix any of this, if the incident in her room had been any indication. The look in his eyes when he'd disarmed her had been brutal...and hurt.

 

But before she can say any of this to Heimdall, there is a rustle ahead and the lady of the home steps out to greet them, her face at first obscured by a turn of the head and a dark red veil. Heimdall reacts almost immediately though, his body stiffening and tensing as his eyes follow the woman who speaks to her stepsons and the young girl. It isn't until she looks ahead to greet the King and Prince does Hilde recognize her, light blue eyes and pale skin and the same beautiful smile. She pauses, her smile faltering and her breath catches audibly as she looks between both Hilde and the watcher. Hilde swears that the man beside her stops breathing for a short moment, and the girl looks between them almost as if she knows something.

 

“Heimdall?” she calls, her voice still the same, the lilt of her accent soft and gentle and Heimdall sucks in air. His grin is genuine and brilliant but he reels himself in enough so that he doesn't make a complete fool of himself. But Hilde, for all her training, can not stop the tears that spring from her eyes, even as Heimdall and the woman embrace, even as Thor and Bruce watch in confusion, as Agatha looks on curiously. She moves to Hilde and there are tears in her eyes too, and without a word, Hilde wraps her into her arms, choking back a sob as she does so. “Siriana,” she whispers, memories of her youth rushing back as she hugs the red haired woman.

 

* * *

 

 

It is a short while later before she gets a chance to truly talk to Siriana. They all sit in the study, fire blazing happily beside them, with nuts and dates to satiate them as they await lunch. Thor is snacking slowly but eagerly, taking in the fact that his two best warriors know the ambassador's wife. “Oh gods, Brunnhilde! They said you all...they'd told me everyone was gone, and I thought...” Siriana chokes up and lets out a little laugh, leaning forward in her chair get a good look at Hilde. “Let me look at you, darling, oh goodness. How long has it been? How long? Ten centuries or more, I think. And you still look the same. You must tell me, where have you been?” Hilde falters for a moment, memories of her time on Sakaar and everything that had happened since the last time she'd seen Siriana threatening to overwhelm her. Surprisingly, it is Loki who saves her.

 

“You know, we met the Valkyrie in another system, Siri,” he says genially, and Hilde glances in his direction. He smiles genuinely at his hostess, and Hilde realizes that they are familiar with each other. “She helped my brother and I get home and was crucial to the evacuation and rescue of Asgard.” Siri's face dims at the mention of her long lost home world and she shakes her head. “I never thought I'd see the day when Asgard was gone,” she says, and she takes a sip of her iced wine. “There were always tales, of course, of a Ragnarok but no one ever thought we'd live to see it. That was something far off and far away and honestly...we all thought it'd never happen. Tell me, Thor,” and she reaches out, gestures to the King. “What really happened? There's so many rumors floating about, I don't know what really the truth is.”

 

And then Thor tells her in detail all that transpired, starting with his father's death and ending with the evacuation. Siri is quiet the entire time, occasionally pressing her hand to her mouth as she hears all the details of the last few months. Sometime during the retelling, servants come into the study with trays of food. There are bowls of rich warm stew and thick bread, little crust less sandwiches, fruit and iced wine as well truffles for desert. The group dug in heartily and ate quietly, the only conversation for a while a soft back and forth rapport between Thor and Siri. Hilde sneaks another glance in the Prince’s direction, and he catches her gaze again, but this time he doesn’t look away. His face is soft and open for only a moment and her heart speeds up, the corners of his mouth lifting only a bit but just enough that she feels a little heartened.

 

Maybe all hope wasn’t lost.

 

She returns the slight smirk with one of her own and then continues her meal, striking up a casual conversation with Agatha, who sits to her right. She is aware of his eyes on her the entire time, and she cannot deny how much she likes it. But soon, lunch is over and Siri is escorting them about the large estate, showing them individually to their rooms. Her stepsons, Lerik and Arick accompanied her and Hilde got the chance to scope them out. Lerik was the eldest, a tall and slim young man of about eight centuries, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes. His younger brother looked similar, but his face was less pronounced and softer, vestiges of baby fat still lining his cheeks. He was of a similar height but of a thicker build, and the dark brown of his hair hung long in a heavy simple braid. He smiled whenever he caught her glance and Hilde smiled back, his kind brown eyes easing her spirit. She couldn’t really say the same for Lerik, who avoided everyone but his stepmother and walked stiffly, as if he were being pressed to attend to them when he didn’t want to. The young girl, Elin, who had accompanied them was Siri’s own daughter, and Hilde realized it was why she had looked so familiar. She was a spitting image of her mother save the bright red hair; Elin’s hair was a rich chestnut brown though streaks of auburn peaked out as she moved her head. She was a shy but sweet girl, who tended to observe instead of talk and who obviously favored her mother and the younger of her half brothers.

 

She made a mental note to perhaps bring her observations up to Thor soon.

 

Heimdall trails the group, his steps slower and steady and Hilde wonders if this has anything at all to do with Siri. Her memory of their relationship was fuzzy at best, but she remembers a broken betrothal and the two attempting to elope. She’s never had clarification on why the marriage didn’t take place and she’s curious to know now, years and years after the fact. If she’s right, she’d think that perhaps Heimdall still holds a torch for his old flame, and she follows his gaze to where it rests on Siri’s back, her arm loped in Thor’s as they ascend the grand staircase of the mansion.

 

She tries, and fails, to not stare at Loki anymore. Better to not press her luck, she thinks, and so she stuck to the middle where Bruce and Agatha walk, his arm around the healer’s waist familiarly and a wowed expression on his face. He catches her hand and tugs her closer, so that she smiles and leans into him. The almost easy way the two of them move together is both endearing and painful, but she pushes the negative thoughts away and enjoys their light chatter as Bruce manages to draw her thoughts away from the stoic prince.

 

When Thor and Loki are both settled, and the children have shown the others to their rooms, Siri grabs Hilde’s hand and shows her personally to where she’ll be lodged, in a bedroom right next door to Loki’s and close to the master suite. “I thought maybe you’d want to be close to the Princes,” she explains, then sighs, sitting on a lush settee in the creamy beige room. There is a large canopied bed in the middle, over thick and plush carpeting and beautiful hardwood flooring, obsidian moon rocks embedded tastefully as accents into the dark furniture. Hilde sinks into the bed with a grateful and exhausted sigh, and closes her eyes as she lies back. She feels the mattress dip beside her and turns her head to find Siri smiling, and is pulled into a tight hug, laughing happily as the redhead woman presses a kiss to her temple.

 

“I thought I’d never see any of you again,” Siri says, her voice thick with tears and Hilde has to wipe away a few of her own. “I was in the capital when we all got the news and no one could tell me exactly what happened, only that all the Valkyries had fallen. I held out hope that perhaps some amongst you had survived but…years passed and no one ever came back and so…I stopped hoping.” She lets out a soft sob and hugs Hilde even tighter. “I’m the only one left,” she says quietly, and she gives a bitter laugh. “You can imagine how I felt waking up, realizing everyone else was dead and that it was only me. I thought too, for years and years that just maybe someone else had made it out. But I saw them all die, one after the other and then it was just us left, and she…” She trails off and draws in a breath, closing her eyes once more. She counts down from fifty and squeezes Siri’s hand tightly, doing her best to stave off the panic attack building. This hadn’t happened in a long while and she’s frustrated with how she is reacting when she’d gotten so far.

 

“You don’t have to continue, love,” Siri says, kissing her forehead again. “I know how difficult it must be. Actually no, I don’t know. They were my friends too but I wasn’t there and…Gunnr was the one who saved you wasn’t she?” Hilde chokes out a yes and dissolved into tears, clinging to Siri as she cried, and the older woman wraps her in her arms and shushes her softly. “If you’d have told me differently, I’d have been surprised”, Siri says, and she gives Hilde a watery smile. “She loved you so very much, my dear.”

 

“I loved her too. I still do. I always will.”

 

Siri shrugs. “ No need to be apologetic. No one ever truly forgets their first love, you know. I definitely haven’t.”

 

They are silent and still for a while, simply enjoying being in each other’s company after so long, and then Siri sits up, pulling Hilde with her. “Let’s talk of something a little less traumatic, why don’t we? Tell me all about where you’ve been, what you’ve been doing. I want to know everything.” Hilde scrubs her tear stained face and shifts on the bed. “Only if you tell me what really happened between you and Heim back then. No one ever filled me in on the story.” Siri presses her lips together in a line and the blush that travels from her chest to her cheeks makes Hilde laugh. “C’mon, you didn’t think anyone noticed you staring at him during lunch?” Siri scoffs, but doesn’t deny anything and then gives her a sly grin.

 

“I can’t tell you here,” she says, and hops off the bed like a woman half her age. “We’ve got about two hours till dinner, so let’s go the markets. Come, we’ll get Elin and I’ll tell you whatever you wish to know.”

* * *

The marketplace is bustling and busy and it reminds Hilde of being young, of pick pocketing in the square on Asgard. But the offerings here so varied and there is so much to see and buy that it nearly overwhelms her. She walks with her arm linked into Siri’s, Elin on her mother’s other side and a basked tucked in her elbow. The younger girl was still mostly quiet on the ride to the market, but she seemed to warm up to Hilde when her mother mentioned that they had been friends long ago. “Do you know my father as well, Brunnhilde?” Elin asks, polite as always, but Hilde shook her head. “I left Asgard before you mama married,” she says, and she wonders curiously at the look on the girl’s face when she gathers this information.

 

The three of them wander around the marketplace slowly, Elin picking up little trinkets and some fruit and putting them in her basket. When Hilde wonders at how the transaction take place, Siri fills her in on how the vendors on Umbreon work. “It’s a barter system; they don’t take any currency and you must bring in something to trade. It could be anything, really. Goods, food, jewelry. Some people offer labor in exchange. And, in our case, grant them the rights to occupy a booth and rent them homes.” That explained why Elin hadn’t had to offer any of the vendors anything.

 

“And what of the stores and boutiques? Those do take currency, yes?”

 

Elin answers this time, picking up a golden apple and offering it to Hilde. She took the fruit with a smile, accepting the scarf Siri offered so she could polish it. “They take credits, yes. They’re exempt from the trade agreement via some pretty complicated legistature that Papa would have to explain. Mama and I could take you, tomorrow if you’d like.” “I’d like that,” Hilde says, “though I don’t have any credits to my name right now.” Siri waves her hand at that and smiles. “No worries at all, love. Think of it as a gift from us. If you find something you like, say the word and we’ll buy it!”

 

When Elin scampers off toward another booth, waving at a friend of hers, Siri steers Hilde toward the fabric merchants and begins to talk.

 

“Now this is all water under the bridge and happened long ago which is why Elin isn’t going to hear it.”

 

“You mean, you’ve still got something for Heim and you don’t want your daughter to get the wrong impression.”

 

Siri shoots her an exasperated look but then chuckles. “Norns, you’re just as snarky as I remember. Fine, maybe you’re right. But hush, I’m only telling this once and then that’s it, no more mention of it. It’s the past. I try to not revisit it much if I can help it.”

 

“My father was friends with doctor from the capital and wanted to betroth me to his youngest son, Leif. He was a sweet boy and we became friends over the years, but I never felt anything for him but simple affection. Of course, what I felt didn’t matter so much to Papa. The marriage was his last ditch resort to having a daughter that followed the rules and was a credit to his smeared name. My sisters had already run off, the eldest with the farm hand and the middle with another woman. You remember them, yes?” Hilde nodded. Horda and Davna Magnusdottir had both been as wild as their hair was red, preferring the sword over the needle, and defying their parents’ expectations of marrying wealthy. While Horda left the realms to become a bounty hunter, Davna become one of Queen Bestla’s shield maidens. After Bestla’s death, Davna packed up and left Asgard with her lover, disappearing from the Nine Realms altogether.

 

“Where is Davna nowadays?” Hilde asked, taking in the rich colors of the beautifully dyed fabrics in front of her.

 

“Causing ruckus in a galaxy far, far away probably. Last she wrote me was when her daughter had a baby, and that had to have been about three years ago.”

 

“And Horda’s son?”

 

“He’s on Vanaheim, now, with his father and husband and their children. He looks so much like his mother, it hurts sometimes.” Siriana’s eldest sister had been brutally murdered after successfully bringing in a big name bounty, all her money stolen and her husband falsely accused of the crime. He had spent twenty years in prison before new evidence cleared his name. “You know, he barely remembers her. He was but a boy when she was taken from us. But Grindel did his best to keep the memory of her alive in Asmund’s heart.”

 

Hilde tsked in pity. The entire ordeal had been incredibly heartbreaking, though she had only known of Horda and Grindel. “Did he ever remarry?” Siri shook her head. “He felt it would be an insult to my sister’s memory, no matter how much we tried to convince him otherwise. But he dotes on his grandbabies and Asmund told me last year that his father had finally found a companion, at least. He’ll never marry her, but I don’t suppose she minds. She’s a widow.” Siri picked up a bolt of crimson silk, ooing over the gorgeous material for a moment before adding it to her basket.

 

“But anyway, about Heimdall,” Hilde urged and Siri grinned. “Ah yes, I’m getting off subject aren’t I? Anyway, I was to marry Leif and be the good daughter and for a while I suppose I wanted to. You know how close I was to my parents. Besides, Leif was a good match and a kind heart and even if he didn’t like women, he would have made a good husband. All we had to do was secure an heir or three, and there’s ways of doing that that don’t involve the marriage bed.” Hilde snorted. “I’m really not sure if I want to know the details of that.” “Oh, we talked of it at great lengths,” Siri said with a chuckle. “When he confessed his nature to me I wasn’t the slightest surprised nor offended. Leif was my friend, and I wanted him to be happy in his truth but we both know he couldn’t.”

 

“So what changed? How’d you end up meeting Heim?"

“Davna came back from wherever she’d run off to that time, to visit, and drug me along with her to have drinks at Mikken’s Pub. I really don’t remember much about that night, drunk as I was, but Freya was there and she’d brought a friend’s son with her. She’d taken him out for his nameday, and he’d just reached his majority.”

 

Siri smiled wistfully, the memory obviously dear to her heart. “He was the most beautiful boy I’d ever seen. And I think I fell in love with him the moment I saw him. I remember going home, heartbroken because I had to marry someone else the next year, but when I told Leif he insisted that we could probably break the betrothal. And he pleaded with both our fathers to let us dissolve the contract but they wouldn’t budge. Of course, Leif usually did everything his father asked him so…I didn’t expect I would be able to leave the marriage like I wanted. But I kept meeting up with Heimdall and Freya offered to take me in if I wanted to run. Oh, I was too scared to at that moment. It was only when Mother found out about us did I have the courage to leave. She was livid, of course, and they locked me in my bedroom until the wedding. I had three weeks to get out and on the night before our wedding, Leif broke me free.”

 

“You remember that well behind the barracks? Well there wasn’t any water there even back then. I’m not sure why it still stood, sentiment perhaps. But I hid in the well for two days while everyone searched for me and Leif did his best to lie. Heimdall and I ran off to Vanaheim and were going to get married then and there, but one of Papa’s friends recognized me and blew the whistle. They drug me back home kicking and screaming. And then made Leif marry me anyway.”

 

“I…had no idea you were actually married before then.”

 

Siri rounded the corner of another booth, and for a moment, she was silent. “It didn’t matter. We didn’t have any children between us and then Leif died during one of the campaigns so I took Freyja’s offer and Heim and I started planning our future. I figured I owed Freyja a few centuries of service since she’d been so charitable during the entire thing.”

 

“….but?”

 

“He was called. You remember that, don’t you?”

 

Hilde did remember that now, including how heartbroken Siri had been and Freyja’s sad eyes. She’d been young and hadn’t quite understood what all was going on. All she knew was that Heimdall would never marry now, never sire children, never carry on his late mother’s legacy. But he would serve the crown and Asgard for as long as he lived and that in itself was honorable.

 

“I still don’t understand why you retired,” Hilde said, and Siri only shrugged. “I was heartbroken, Hilde. I didn’t even want to be on the same planet as Heimdall at that time. Just seeing him made everything inside me hurt. So I ran. Davna came to the rescue again and by this point, Mama and Papa had given up on taming any of us so they gave me their blessing. I met Rolf years later during one of Davna’s runs to Umbreon and…well, he offered me a place at his side and it was more than I had at the time. His wife had left him with two little boys and I couldn’t help but adore them when I met them. So I took his hand, and I’ve been here ever since.”

 

The chatter lulls for a bit and the two mosey alongside the vendors and the stalls, Hilde taking in the sights and sounds of the market and Siri scoping out the rows of fabrics. One particular bolt catches Hilde’s eye and she gives an audible gasp, causing Siri to turn to see what the issue is. “Are you alright, darling?” she asks, a little worried, but Hilde only nods, brushing her palm against a magnificent ice blue and silver embroidered fabric that shimmers in the glowing torchlight. “Oh this is…wow,” Hilde finally says and Siri laughs softly. “You know, you never struck me as a fashion plate.” Hilde narrows her eyes at her friend but agrees. “I’m not, really, I’m just looking at it. It’s beautiful.” Siri hums in agreement, and offers to get Hilde the fabric if she wants it.

 

“What in the world would I ever do with it? Besides look at it of course.”

 

“Oh, I don’t know. You could perhaps use it to make a dress with…or even some very special linens.” Hilde couldn’t possibly think of any occasion where she’d use the fabric so she shook her head, though the idea of accepting Siri’s offer was tempting. It would be a waste, she knew, and so she slipped past Siri, moving toward the jewels and shoes before she could change her mind.

* * *

 

Dinner was a lively affair. She took hers seated between Heimdall and Elin, Arick and Bruce directly across from her. Lerick had business to attend to, Siri explained and would have to see them all again tomorrow at breakfast. But she did ask Thor where Loki was. “He said he wasn’t hungry,” Thor said with a shrug. “You know how he is.” Siri nodded and blotted her mouth with a napkin dantily. “That I do. Your mother spent most of his childhood trying to get the boy to eat.” Hilde looked up at the mention of Loki’s name, but had kept her peace until Siri’s comment.

 

“You know the Prince personally?” she asked, and she could feel Heimdall’s eyes on her.

 

“Of course!” Siri said cheerfully. “Before Elin was born, and the boys were small, the Allfather often brought his sons with him here to shop the markets and check on his ambassador. As you know, there’s a lot of money in the ore on Umbreon and the Allfather had…or well, had, stock in some of the land we sit on. I got to know the Princes as they grew up and often kept correspondence with Queen Frigga.” That explained the familiarity she’d noticed between the two Odinsons and Siriana.

 

“The visits got less and less as we aged," Thor continues, "and the last time we came with Father was a bit after Loki reached majority. Of course, that didn’t mean we couldn’t sneak a few visits in after that. Just had to be sneaky about it.”

 

Siri laughed, her eyes twinkling and she reached across the table to grasp Thor’s hand. “Loki built a portal of some type in his bedroom and he and Thor ended up outside in one of the mines. By the time I found them they were covered in moon soot and mud.”

 

“And what a funny picture they made,” Arick said, smiling. “The Princes always brought me taffies and candies when they came to see us. Mama didn’t want my teeth to rot, of course, so she would hide it away and try and dispense it on rare occasions, but I always found her hiding spots.”

 

For a while, they chatter around the table revolves around Thor and Loki's visits to Umbreon, Siri telling old stories that draw a laugh even from Hilde, who finishes her dinner quietly. She catches Thor's eye over the dinner table and offers him a polite smile, and he returns it but she feels as though he is looking directly through her, and so she turns back to her mostly empty dinner plate until dinner is cleaned up and they are all dismissed.

 

Though she hadn't really been expecting it, she isn't surprised when Thor catches her in the hallways. “I hate to drag you away from probably getting the best sleep we've had in weeks, but do you mind if we have a little chat?” Hilde knows she's free to decline but there's servants around and people still within earshot so she accepts with a slight bow, careful not to appear too familiar or disrespectful to her King. Thor is at the mercy of these people and the last thing he needs is for someone to undermine that by whispering about how casual she treats him.

 

He locks the door behind her and mumbles a few words, a soft glow of light fading against the walls when he does. She blinks in confusion, and points to the door. “Um, did you just-” “Yep,” he says simply, and he grins, flopping down in one of the loungers in his room. “Mother tried teaching both of us magic, not just Loki. He just so happened to be the one who took to it the best. But a few things stuck with me.”

 

“So you know cloaking spells?”

 

“Mmhm. I tried invisibility but that didn't work out too well. Took three days for me to convince Loki to turn me back before our parents realized what I'd done.” His grin fades a little at that and then he sighs, serious though he isn't at all all unkind.

 

“I realize this sounds like I'm prying, and maybe I am, but I must know.”

 

“About....”

 

“You. And Loki. And whatever is going on with the two of you. Because my brother has been in the worst mood for the last three days and I'm this close to knocking his skull in.”

 

Hilde's first reaction is to deny everything and insist she hasn't a clue what's the matter. How would he know anyway, unless Loki had said something, and the thought of his side of the story being the dominating one makes her irritable.

 

“We had a...thing. A little fling, really, nothing special.” It's a lie, and she knows he can tell she's lying. She looks deliberately at the carpet instead of at Thor. “And maybe he sorta kinda got the wrong impression about...the fling? I think he might have um, well, he probably...” She trails off and clears her throat, then shoots her eyes up to glance at him and finds him leaned back in the chair, his brow raised and an unbelieving line to his mouth.

 

“So you're telling me that he's moping about the ship and around this estate, being nothing but cordial and standoffish to his hostess, who, I might add, he's known since he was a child, because of a simple fling gone left?”

 

She thinks perhaps she should nod at that, run with the story but Thor shakes his head before she can open her mouth and lie some more.

 

“Brunnhilde, you're going to have to either come up with a better lie than that or you're going to have to tell me the truth.” He leans forward then, his voice quieter and softer and though his eye is intense, there is no chastisment in what he says next. “I'm coming to you as a friend,” he begins. “I only want to help right whatever may have gone wrong between the two of you. You know how deeply I love my brother. And you must realize that I consider you one of my closest friends.”

 

The knot of anxiety in Hilde's stomach begins to loosen and she sighs deeply, giving him an apologetic look before she starts to talk. “I'm sorry,” she says softly. “I hadn't wanted to bother you with any of this. I hadn't wanted to bother anyone for anyone to know-”

“Did Heimdall mention that we all already know?”

 

“Uh...pardon?”

 

He waves his hand and dismisses that thread of conversation. “That's beside the point, the point is, I want your take on everything. You don't have to go into drastic detail, please, do spare me all the most intimate parts, but...well, start at the beginning.”

 

She does. She tells him about the panic attacks and the nightmares, skips back a little bit to the night caps in the mess hall and then go into their deal. “I think he simply intended it to be...um, well a way for me to distract myself, to get a release from...ya know. And it probably was at first. But I guess it developed past that.”

 

“Into what? A relationship? Had the two of you talked about commitments and boundaries?”

 

Hilde scoffed. “Norns, no. It pretty much just evolved from sex into...a friends with certain benefits type of thing. And yes, we spent a lot of time together and I did enjoy his companionship, but no, no I didn't...I'm not in love or anything like that.” She laughs at that and drums her fingers on her knee, waiting for Thor's assessment of the situation.

 

“Uh huh. And that explains why you snapped at your students and Bruce saw you crying in the mess?”

 

“I did no-”

 

“Or why Agatha heard you sobbing in your room after the lot of you played hide and seek? And who decided inviting me was a bad idea? How did you know I didn't want to play too?”

 

“Thor, you're the King. No one is going to think the King is going to want to play hide and seek.”

 

“Ah,” Thor says, a cunning smile on his face, “But the Prince would. And you'd know that he would because you're in love with him.” “I am not!” she exclaims, grateful that there is a cloaking spell on the door and then she wonders how everyone knew about them having sex when Loki supposedly put one on his door. “You are, and you're denying it. He told you he loved you, didn't he? And it scared you so you did what you do when you're scared.”

 

“Watch it, Thor,” she warns, and she goes to stand up, but he tugs her down by her wrist. “ _Sit_ , Brunnhilde,” he says, and the command in his voice makes her sit still. It's infuriating but makes a little proud that he's managing the crown so well. “Tell me what you told him that night, when he told you he loved you. Because that's when he did it, didn't he? During hide and seek. He probably found you alone and the two of you became amorous as usual but something in him had changed. You froze and then brushed his feelings aside-ah! I'm not done talking, sit-and then, you told him what?”

 

She wants to hide under the bed but she's not a coward, or at least she is trying not to be. Stop running, a voice in her head tells her and so she sucks in a breath and admits everything to Thor.

 

“I told him to keep it casual. I told him it didn't have to be anything but what it was. I thought he'd shrug it off and go about his business and...I didn't think he...he's only angry because I rejected him right? There's some ulterior motive, Thor, there has to be.”

 

“Why? Why would he lie to you about that?”

 

“Because that's what he does! He's a liar, he's a manipulating cunning bastard, and yeah he's got some soft spots but-”

 

“I don't think you believe that.”

 

“I have to,” she rushes out, and she digs her nails into her palm, fighting the urge to get up and bolt once more. “I can't really believe the Prince of Asgard could love me. Could love anyone. He's dangerous, he's...” Her voice cracks at this and yet, she goes on, because now the flood has opened and Thor is looking at her so gently and all she wants is to fix this. She just wants to fix them.

 

“He's gentle, and sweet, and so smart. He's kind to me, he...he comes to me at night when the dreams are the worst and he sings to me. He tells me I'm beautiful and he loves to hear me read and he thinks I'm the most intelligent woman in the world. You know he gave me your mother's storybook?”

 

“The blue one? With the sapphires on the front?” Thor whistles.

 

“Yes, and he...he tells me stories about the two of you when you were children. He loves you so much, Thor. He adores his mother and he trusts me with her memory.”

 

Thor is quiet but he takes her hand in his and squeezes soothingly. “He loves you,” he says simply and Hilde is nodding and biting the inside of her cheek so she does not cry. “I've never seen him in love before, but I will say that sounds like that's it. And tell me, honestly please, as my friend, do you feel even close to the same about him?”

 

She pauses and thinks, truly and deeply about what she feels and she is confronted with the idea that she may not be able to fix this, and that one day they will be simply a memory to each other, that she will have missed the chance to be loved again so honestly and truthfully that it takes her breath away.

 

Her voice is small but true when she finally speaks again.

 

“Yes. I love him. I'm _in_ love with him. And I've fucked it all to pieces.”

 

Thor shakes his head, a giant grin spreading across his handsome face and she knows now, though she cares about him genuinely and deeply, that should could have never loved Thor the way she loves Loki. The thought is almost humorous. “I don't think you've even gotten close to fucking it up completely. But we'll have to do a little damage control.”

 

She sniffs and blinks rapidly, suddenly determined to make all of this right. “Alright. I can do that. How do you think I should approach this?”

 

“As his brother, I'd tell you to give him space and let him cool off. Let him come around on his own; I've enough experience with an angry and pissed off Loki to know he just needs to be by himself a while before he can be reasoned with. But as a man...as a man I'd tell you to make him feel like he's missing out. Make him realize what he's not got by not forgiving you. Pretend like you've decided that whatever he decides will work for you. And then let him come to you later, when he's frustrated and angry that you aren't moping about in his absence.”

 

The plan sounds like it will very well backfire, but she's at her wits end and Thor is the closest of them to him, so she gives it due consideration. With her vigor renewed, and a sense of purpose for the next few days, she says goodbye to Thor and gives him a hug in thanks, going to bed with a light heart.

 

She doesn't notice Loki in the shadows of his bedroom, watching her with hungry and jealous eyes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Siriana, in the Marvel comics was actually Heimdall's fiancee at one point. If you can figure out how Hilde and Siri know each other, you get a cookie. It should be pretty obvious. Annnnnnd we are one chapter away from the blowup that leads to reconciliation! Hang in there, these two ding dongs will be back in each other's arms (and beds) in no time! I'm on tumblr, just in case you haven't heard. @lilithenaltum, of course.


	18. xvi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Espionage! Longing! Jealousy! Umbreon is turning out to be a lot more excitement than the gang expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next few chapters switch between pov's, so any change will be proceeded by double breaks while scene changes are singles as usual. Comments are the best thing since sliced bread, but kudos and coffees are welcomed too. My Ko-Fi is lilithenaltum, if you're wonderin'. ;)

He’d sat through two days of negotiations and surprisingly, things were going rather well. Loki hadn’t had to use any mind tricks or subtle seidr to get what they needed; instead, he relied completely upon his charm and the good faith that the Umbreon Trading Society had with Odin Borson and his sons. Thor had also done exceptionally well, keeping quiet for the majority of the talks, but piping up every so often to reassert his authority as a king, albeit one displaced. And while it was frustrating that some of the society members waffled about over silly items like which spices to donate as well as what kinds of soap the Aesir could have, the overall mood of the negotiations was one of progress.

 

The only think Loki disliked was Rolf Jirgnson and his son.

 

Jirgnson had never been Loki’s favorite in all the years and instances that he and Thor visited the ambassador. Rolf was almost too boisterous, too open and jovial to the point that it unnerved him, and though he had expressed his concerns to his father once, he’d been met with a dismissal and the admonition to mind his manners. So Loki had gone to Frigga, confessing that Rolf gave him a strange vibe, and while his mother had listened to his worries with a more open mind that her husband, nothing had changed. There had been no investigations into the man’s actions and dealings on Umbreon, a moon far enough away from Asgard to allow anyone ample opportunity to sneak around if they so wished.

 

Loki had no real substantial proof that Rolf was up to no good, just a gut feeling and he knew how unreliable those would be to the general consensus. He was the God of Mischief for a reason and so he kept his thoughts to himself, deciding he would simply try and keep his eyes and ears open just in case. And, if need be, he could enlist Heimdall to help keep a watch out as well.

 

As it were, he walked through the Aesir camp on Jirgnson’s estate beside his brother and the two Rolfsons, Arick quiet but cheerful and Lerik broody and stoic. Even in his most sour of moods, Loki knew he wouldn’t want to keep company with the eldest boy, the thin pale young man a taller and more severe version of his younger self. He’d always been a quiet boy, but now that silence seemed threatening and yet, Loki once again had no real proof to go on that anyone was up to no good. All he had were cutting looks from Lerik and Rolf’s overcompensation as he talked. And boy, did he ever talk.

 

Loki tuned in to hear what Thor was saying, catching the tail end of Rolf’s explanation of Odin’s stock in the trading moon. “He technically owned all the land you see here,” Rolf said, sweeping his hand across the black rock, torchlight and fires from the camp burning brightly in the distance. If Loki squinted he could see the marketplaces to the northeast.

 

“I was simply given the role of monitoring his wealth and making sure it grew by leaps and bounds.”

 

“And you have done a great job, Rolf,” Thor said politely, smiling and nodding at all the right moments. Rolf went on to explain that the stocks Odin had acquired still stood; Thor, as heir and the new King had inherited all of this and it was at his discretion what happened to it.

 

And, as such, it meant that he also had a lot more bargaining power than he originally thought he had. “The lands have shrunk over the centuries, your later father selling them here and there for profit, but there still is a substantial amount of money in the mines that could be of great use to you. And, truly, I would even consider keeping your stocks and interests here on Umbreon. It would be of great use to you when you venture to Midgard. Eh, you do still intend on settling on Midgard, your Majesty?”

 

Thor nodded. “I have friends there and some connections I could use to keep us all safe. And as for the matter of land, well, before he left this life he met with Loki and I in a place called Norway. There’s a home waiting for us right there; I suppose all we must do is get there in one piece.” Rolf seemed to consider this statement seriously, but the look in his eye bothered Loki. He wasn’t too thrilled about the prospect of Thor cashing in his stocks and leaving Umbreon.

 

Yet, the Prince kept quiet.

 

The small party walked about the camp then, discussing some of Thor’s plans for the future and after a while the talk became droll and boring, so Loki tuned them all out. On the outside he was a vision of regality and studied interest; the perfect politician and diplomat, a man who observed and thought deeply and intellectually.

 

Inside, he was racking his brain, searching for reasons to get Hilde alone.

 

After lunch their first day at the estate, Loki had only seen Hilde in his peripheral, as she spent the greatest majority of her time with Siri and Elin. Their brief interactions at lunch or dinner were perfunctory and polite, her smiles impersonal, her eyes only meeting his for a second or two. She paid more attention to Thor than she did to him and that rankled a lot more than he would care to admit. Never mind the fact that his older brother took up good chunks of her time talking to her after meals or during breaks, but he’d seen her leaving Thor’s room more than once since they got to Umbreon and jealousy was starting to rear its ugly head.

 

“How am I supposed to woo her if can’t even talk to her,” Loki had complained to Agatha.

 

“Be patient, my prince,” the healer had said soothingly. “When it’s time, you’ll know when to act. Give her the space she requires and she’ll come to you herself.”

 

And yet it didn’t seem as though giving her space was doing any good. Granted, she wasn’t cold or particularly hostile towards him, and he supposed that was better than nothing, but the distance, even when they sat across from each Siriana’s dinner table was eating away at him. Frustration boiled just beneath the surface of his placid demeanor, but he kept it at bay by reminding himself that he owed her this space, that after his blow up on the ship, she deserved a break from him and his foul temper.

 

But something had to give and it would, sooner than expected.

 

Rolf had approached the brothers with the idea of throwing a dinner gala two nights hence. It would bring prospective donors and investors to the estate, and both brothers could talk individually to members of the trade society, furthering their interests and gaining potential supplies and necessities. Thor almost immediately agreed, and while Loki thought the idea was politically smart, he was in absolutely no mood to smooze and kiss ass. But he was being the dutiful younger brother and so he agreed with a terse smile on his face, and then dismissed himself to rest in his room for the rest of the evening. He planned to skip dinner once again, sneaking down to the kitchen to snag a few sandwiches and perhaps a bowl of soup to eat alone. He had not the patience for tedious dinner talk and watching Hilde throw Thor little glances, smirking in some secret way. Agatha insisted that the two of them were simply being friendly. Loki was certain that Hilde was flirting with his brother right in front of him, and it made every nasty little dark emotion inside him boil and bubble forth.

 

It was better if he avoided dinner altogether.

 

A few hours later, as he engrossed himself in another of his mother’s books, he heard voices outside his door. There were laughter and footsteps, before the door next to his closed and everything went quiet for a short while. He sat up straighter, strained his ears to listen, and thought he heard breathless giggles and moans. His face flushed and he got up slowly, setting his book aside as he pressed his ear to the walls and listened. The sound was muffled, and he only caught snippets of what was being said, but he heard a high pitched “Thor!” and backed away from the wall as if he’d been burned.

 

That sounded suspiciously like Hilde and his blood boiled, his hands clenching and unclenching into fists. Either they were playing a game with him or something had developed between the two of them, and neither option sounded promising for Loki. He considered running to Agatha, if only to vent, but thought better of it. She was likely in bed at this hour, and with Bruce of all people, and besides, he was a man grown. He could handle his emotions and problems on his own, thank you very much.

 

The laughter continued, his brother’s deep rumbling voice irritating him with every syllable and finally he threw up a hasty spell to soundproof the walls between them, until there was only silence and the thudding of his pulse in his ears.

 

He didn’t get much sleep that night.

* * *

* * *

 

Siri’s house was a circus for most of the next day and would be until the day after and Hilde did her best to steer clear of it. People scurried about with floral arrangements and trays of foods to prepare; servants ran around the ballroom of the mansion to hastily decorate, clean, and organize. Siri was too busy to entertain her that day, so she went to find Elin, the two of them chatting and wandering the estate for a while, and then decided to walk the half mile from the house to the Aesir camp. Perhaps some of the girls would be up for a bit of sparring.

 

As it were, guards stood along the entrance to the camp, men that Hilde had never seen nor noticed before, and she felt her stomach knot anxiously. Something didn’t feel right about the guards or their frosty demeanor, and she said as much to Elin when they slipped inside the camp. “I don’t like it either, Hilde,” the girl said quietly, so that she could only be heard by her companion. “Mama insisted that they weren’t needed, but Papa went ahead and installed them anyway. I don’t know whatever for; no one here is any trouble and the camp seems quite peaceful. “

 

“Perhaps it’s something he’s doing for appearances,” Hilde offered but Elin simply pursed her lips shut, and didn’t say anything else about it. 

 

“Mistress!” Hilde turned to see Lir and Ilsa jogging toward her, smiles on their faces and she embraced them both happily. “How have you been, up there in that big pretty house?” Ilsa asked, and Hilde shrugged. “Not all fun and games, you know. I’ve been helping the King with a little business and it’s pretty tedious.”

 

“I imagine,” she responded, and she turned her attention to Elin, who waited quietly beside Hilde. “Are you Lady Siriana’s daughter?” Elin smiled politely and nodded the affirmative. “Elin,” she offered by way of introduction. “And I suppose you are two of her students, yes? She’s told Mama and me all about you.” The girls grinned proudly and came closer, Lir extending her hand and Elin taking it eagerly. “That would be us,” Lir quipped, “and we’re two out of three dozen. Do you want to meet some of the other girls? I’m sure they’d love to say hi.”

 

Hilde followed Lir down the makeshift streets of the encampment to where several more trainees gathered in a large circle, eating and chatting jovially. The two introduced Elin to the crowd, and she beamed, seemingly overwhelmed with the warm welcomes, but after a while she fit right in. All the while, Hertha, though warm and open to talking with the others, kept glancing about as if she were anticipating something unpleasant. She sat in front of the tent she shared with her grandmother and Lir sharpening a small silver dagger, and then shoved the blade beneath her tunic when footsteps approached. Within seconds, a group of the same guards outside the camp came strolling through the dark, ominously turning their heads to stare at the girls as they walked.

 

“Those guys give me the creeps,” Alfhilde murmured, when they had finally passed. “Same here,” Ilsa said, and she sat on the ground beside Nonna, motioning for the other girl to pass her a jug of water. “Do they do that all the time?” Elin asked, and she frowned in concern. Hertha nodded then took the dagger from its hiding spot and continued to sharpen it. “Every hour, on the hour. Sometimes they stand over there for hours,” and she pointed to an open spot in the center of the camp, “just watching us.”

 

“Everyone’s been anxious about it, Mistress,” Lir adds. She sits next to her girlfriend and leans her head on Hertha’s shoulder, smiling briefly when Hertha brushes her lips against her forehead. Some of the older folks in camp have tried going to the markets or getting a word in with King Thor or Prince Loki, but the guards follow us all the way to the city and no one is allowed entrance into the house.” The knot in Hilde’s stomach tightened and she watched Elin’s frown deepen. “That doesn’t sound right…something’s going on. I need to talk to Mama about it. Do you think this has anything to do with the trade negotiations?”

 

“It’s entirely possible,” Hilde admitted, though she didn’t know very much about how the proceedings were going. Initially, she and Bruce and Heimdall had all planned to accompany the Odinsons into the negotiations, but members of the Committee had insisted they deal only with royalty. Both Bruce and Heimdall had taken the affront better than she had; Hilde bristled at the memory of Siri leading her bodily down the corridor. “Don’t give them a reason to deny Thor anything,” her friend had whispered, a calming hand pressed into Hilde’s back. “I know you, you’ll try slicing them all open the second they say anything even remotely insulting about the crown. Let Loki work, he’s good at this.”

 

And so she had stood down, conceding to standing guard outside the door like a simple sentry when she knew her insight and knowledge of the people on the ship were valuable. Thor had apologized profusely for the slight, late that night after the first round of talks, and her temper cooled when she realized how lost and overwhelmed he was. “Thank the nine I have Loki at least,” he’d said with a tired smile, and Hilde had to admit that the Prince was a master with this kind of work. The reports at the end of each day seemed more and more promising, but still, something hadn’t sat right with her the entire time she was at the estate and now it was all starting to make sense.

 

Someone didn’t want those trade agreements to go through, and she needed to find out whom.

 

“I’m going to need one of you to come with us back to the manor and be my eyes and ears. We’ve got a gala tomorrow and I’m expected to come so I won’t have much time to do any snooping.” The girls all looked between each other, and then talked all at once, trying to decide who would be the best choice to act as a spy. Elin was curiously quiet, though her eyes stayed trained on Hertha, who had finished sharpening her dagger and was watching the arguments with a little amusement.

 

“Why don’t you come with us?” Elin finally said, her quiet voice slipping underneath the gaggle of  young women talking, and Hertha glanced at Hilde with a raised brow. “I don’t exactly give the impression of moneyed aristocracy,” she said with a sly grin, but she stood, getting everyone’s attention. “But I am pretty sneaky. And well…” She hesitated for a short while, glanced to Lir and then back to Hilde and Elin. “No matter how much he tried to deny me, my sire didn’t raise riff raff. I’ve got court manners somewhere in this body of mine. And enough seidr to get me through just about anything.”

 

Hilde startled. “Court manners? _Seidr?_ Hertha, are you saying you’re a-“

 

Hertha’s grin spread wider. “You didn’t know? Ah, Mistress! All the other girls figured it out already.” They all began to giggle and Hilde gazed at Hertha in shock. As if to confirm her own word, bright yellow sparks of seidr sprang from Hertha’s hands, disappearing just as quickly. “It’s not something I go around bragging about. Neither is my bloodline.”

 

“She’s the great-granddaughter of the Vanir king,” Lir supplied, obviously proud of Hertha. “Her papa is one of Prince Freyr’s younger sons.” Hertha shrugged. “ _Bastard_ granddaughter. I’ve never been legitimized, you know. But…well, I was taken care of in my own way and he taught me a little of what he knew before he died.” Hilde could only blink at the information, wondering how in the world she’d missed any of this. She looked over to Elin, who stood behind her with a amused look on her face, the slightest of smirks on her lips. “I felt something different about her,” she admitted. Hilde shook her head with a sigh and turned to her student. “And you’re willing to risk being caught spying and snooping, Hertha? This could be really serious.” Hertha nodded. “I’m willing. Give me a second to let Grandmama know where I’m headed and I’ll come along.”

* * *

  

The three of them left camp ten minutes later, Hilde passing Hertha off as a ladies’ maid imperative to getting her dressed for the gala the next day. The two of them hurried up to Hilde’s room, Elin just barely running into Lerik.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Lerik, I didn’t mean-“

 

“Is it possible for you to not be a klutz for one day, Elin?” he barked out, and Hilde saw the girl shrink into herself. “Was my fault, my lord,” Hilde offered in way of apology, so they could get to where they were headed without any more problems. He only glared at her and stomped down the hallway, leaving Hilde and Hertha both fuming.

 

“Why is he like that?” Hilde asked when they had settled in her bedroom and locked the door securely. She asked Hertha to apply a cloaking spell and then tugged her boots off, sinking into a plush recliner with a sigh. “He’s been like that since I could remember,” Elin said. She wrinkled her nose. “He’s either a jerk, or he’s standing too close to me and watches every move I make.”

 

“Have you told your mother?” Hilde asked, concerned that there was something sinister in Lerik’s actions. “No,” Elin admitted in a small voice. “I don’t want to cause any more strife between her and Papa. They fight all the time.” That stunned Hilde, as she hadn’t seen nor heard any kind of commotion coming from Rolf and Siri’s master suite. In fact, the two of them seemed like the perfect pair, though she had to admit that Rolf was a little too enthusiastic and overbearing for her tastes. Even still, she knew that sometimes things weren’t always noticeable to the naked eye and so she cataloged that tidbit of information in a safe place until she could assess it later.

 

A knock at the door cut off their conversation and Hertha opened it cautiously to reveal Siri waiting, piles of dresses in her arms. “Good gracious, it’s quiet in here! Are all of you simply napping?” She smiled and waltzed into the bedroom, then turned and nodded at Hertha to shut the door. “And perhaps reapply the spell while you’re at it, dear.” Hertha raised a brow and shot Hilde a look, but complied.

 

“How did you-“

 

 “It’s too quiet in here, Hilde,” she explained, setting out the dress across Hilde’s bed. “I brought the red tea length for you, poppet,” she told Elin, who kissed her mother on the cheek and picked up the dress. “And anyhow, Elin has been trying to learn a few simple spells of her own, though my knowledge is limited and my resources lacking.”

 

“Resources?” Hilde got up from the recliner and stood beside Siri, glancing at the gorgeous chiffon and silk dresses spread out across her mattress.

 

“Resources as in, the good Queen Frigga thought it advantageous that her husband’s ambassador have a seidr user at his disposal. Now, some of us take to seidr like a babe to the breast-“

 

“Prince Loki,” Elin said with a grin.

 

“And some of us struggle through it so that we learn just enough to do a few magic tricks,” Siri continued. “But all of us are capable. We are Asgard, and Asgard feeds on the magic and mystery of it’s people. Or something like that. That’s what the book said, anyway.” Elin giggles at this and rushes over to bring Hertha to her mother. “She’s one of Hilde’s students, Mama. We’ve brought her along to the gala if that’s alright.” Siri gave Hertha a warm smile and nodded. “I don’t see why it’d be a problem. Do you have anything to wear?” Hertha shook her head. “What I’ve got on, and more of the same back in my tent. I don’t really have anything fancy, never have the occasion for it.” Siri stood back a bit and took a quick visual measurement of Hertha, who stood still and awkwardly stared at a the older woman.

 

“I’m pretty sure I have something that’ll fit you. I’m not much of a seamstress but I’ve got a girl here who can do a few quick adjustments.”

 

And then Siri sighed, leaning against a bed post tiredly. “Mama, are you alright?” Elin asked, and Hilde went to her friend, worried. “I’m…a little tired, poppet,” she said, giving her daughter a weak grin. “This whole gala mess was last minute and I’ve been up since the wee hours trying to get everything gathered and…” She pauses, and looks at Hilde for a second. “I can trust all of you, can’t I?”

 

“Of course you can,” Hilde offers, and guides Siri to the recliner so she can rest.

 

“And that spell is tight on the doors and walls, right?”

 

Hertha nods. “Yes Lady Siri. Not a sound should get out this room.”

 

Siri stares ahead of her and takes a moment to gather her thoughts, then steels herself. She looks every bit the Valkyrie she once was and Hilde has a feeling what she’s about to say will confirm any and all suspicions that she’s had about the trade negotiations.

 

“Rolf is trying to kill me.”

 

That wasn’t at all Hilde expected to hear, and neither did Elin if the girl’s gasp was anything to go by. “Mama…how do you…what do you mean?! Why would he try to…I know the two of you fight, but please, tell me you’re exaggerating at least!” Siri shook her head gravely. “We take tea every morning, you know that. And lately, I’ve felt…sluggish, aching, not at all myself. I’m not a spring chicken but I’m no old woman either. I watched one day, when he didn’t realize I was looking, and saw him slip a few drops of Norns know what into my cup.” She sighs, and rubs her eyes, tears springing to them. “I know too much, sweet girl. I know that the money is nearly gone, that the only thing he’s got going for him the deed to this land and the stocks in the mines.”

 

“Those belong to Odin…” Hilde begins, her eyes widening. It all started to make sense then,  and she reached out a hand to grasp Siri’s.

 

The older woman nodded. “And since the Allfather is now gone, they belong to Thor. If he can get rid of Thor, the money goes to Loki. If he can get rid of them both, well…

 

“Well?”

 

“Everything is up for auction, if no one steps in as heir. Thor is currently childless and so is Loki. Neither of them is married and as far as I’m aware, neither of them have any children about. Rolf figures he could possibly act as executor of the estate and siphon all the money into his personal account. And I happened to find this out purely by accident, mind you, but he knows I know. I’m not safe. No one here is safe, least of all the Odinsons.” She drew in a beleaguered breath and closed her eyes, the tears slipping down her pale cheeks slowly. Elin choked back her own sob and squeezed her body into the recliner beside her mother, hugging her tightly.

 

“What can we do?” Hilde’s voice is strained with anger and she squeezes Siri’s hand harder.

 

“We need to tell them…if not Thor, at least Loki. I haven’t had a chance to be alone with him and I think Rolf has done so on purpose. I’m always needed here or there, or there are always others about when I can manage to catch a word or two with the Prince. If anyone saw Elin talking to him, they’d get suspicious. And you, Hilde…he’d probably guess that I’ve told you. But you,” she says, her eyes narrowing as she looked to Hertha.

 

“I could do it,” Hertha says, her back straight and her face determined. “Might have to…give the Prince a, um, gift. And how to tell him? A note perhaps? It could be hidden in something, maybe a cloak or a book or-“

 

“A bolt of fabric,” Siri says, her face brightening as she did. “Elin, poppet, grab mama a pen and paper. I’ve a note to write.”

* * *

* * *

The last person Loki expected to have at his door was Hertha. She held a wrapped bundle in her arms and wore the vaguest expression he’d ever seen on anyone’s face. She wore a gauzy little gown of white chiffon, slippers a size too small on her feet, and a shawl around her bare shoulders. Something told him this wasn’t a social call. Wordlessly, he allowed her in and she waited in front of the still open door to speak.

 

“You’ve a present, your Highness,” she said, her quiet voice sultry and seductive, but it was threaded with a note of warning. Loki raised a brow and met her gaze pointedly, and she shot a glance down to the bundle she held, then stepped back, allowing the shawl she wore to fall to the floor. Loki took in a breath and then, in his most arrogant and spoiled voice, commanded her loud enough so that anyone listening would get the idea.

 

“Close the door.”

 

Hertha obeyed him wordlessly, though she waved furiously for him to not apply a spell. “We need them to think that I’m…you know,” she whispered, and Loki looked to the ceiling, letting out a sigh and then started his ‘seduction’ for posterity. “Take off the gown, darling. No, slower…yes, just like that.”

 

Hertha gave him a curious look and covered her mouth so she would not giggle. “You know,” she said, and then remembered she had to whisper, “if I were into men that probably would have me in a puddle. You’ve a great voice for seduction, my prince.” Loki found himself smiling at her compliment and then gestured for her to sit on the bed.

 

“About how long do you think you’ll need to stay?” he asked, as Hertha gathered the skirts of the whispy little nightgown and settled on his large bed. “Not entirely sure, but I imagine it’s all in the note.” And then she pointed to the bundle she’d been holding, now sitting on the bed beside her. “I haven’t a clue what Lady Siri wrote in that thing-“ She cut off, paused, and then as loudly as she thought was appropriate, she giggled, high pitched and entirely un-Hertha like. “Oh my prince, that tickles!” Loki just barely held his snort back and began unwrapping the bundle as he played along. “Does it now, darling? Turn around for me. Ah, you’ve a lovely bottom haven’t you?”

 

Hertha was laid back in the bedding, her fist stuffed in her mouth as she shook with laughter. This whole endeavor was both interesting and ridiculous, but Siri must have had a good reason for whatever was going on. He peeled back muslin to reveal a stunning blue and silver fabric, and after more unraveling, two small notes in between the layers. The first alarmed him tremendously. The second made him stop still, then groan loudly.

 

Did _everyone_ in the galaxy know about his feelings for Hilde?!

 

Hertha stared at him as he read and asked if she needed to take a message back before moaning for dramatics. Loki gave her a thumbs up at her incredible acting. “I’ve had to do that quite a bit before I realized I just didn’t have a use for a cock,” she said, and he chuckled, snagging a sheet of paper from the desk adjacent to his bed.

 

“Make sure you look ravished, darling,” Loki murmured, groaning again once more for good measure and prompting her to follow. The two of them kept up the charade until finally Hertha gave a blissful sigh, messing up her nightgown methodically and stuffing the note he folded into her bosom. “Anything else you need?” she asked, and Loki crooked his finger, so she came face to face with him. He waved his hand along her neck, leaving a few bite marks and then fluffed her short hair, before nodding at her and giving her a conspiratorial grin.

 

“Be careful, Hertha,” he whispered, and as she left the room, she let out the dreamiest sigh and giggle she could muster.

* * *

He spent the rest of that night paranoid and on guard, the note Siri had written now in the fireplace in ashes. She had sent him a warning at risk to her own safety and he would be forever grateful. They only had to survive tomorrow's gala, and then, with supplies and money from the bonds and deeds in their pockets, they all could leave this moon and continue on to Earth. The likelihood of that happening without any incident was rather small, he knew, but at least now he was aware of the threat. 

 

He began to formulate a game plan: first, he needed to let his brother know, as well as Heimdall, Bruce, and Agatha. Siri had mentioned that Hilde was already aware of what was going on so no need to cause further suspicions bothering her. _And there's one less reason I'll have to see her_ , he bemoaned in his head but he hadn't time to mope about it. Second, he had to secure the people of Asgard out of the property and back onto the ship. He didn't have the definite details of what was going on at the camps, but he knew he'd find out in the morning at least. and he also knew that if he or Thor were assassinated, none of the Asgardians would be able to leave Umbreon. Thirdly, he'd have to utilize every bit of his mother's training and education to get the supplies they all needed. Midgard was still far enough away that they would all run out of food and potable water before they arrived. With only a few hours till breakfast, he finally slipped into a light and uneasy sleep.

 

Arick arrived right on time to escort him to breakfast, and Loki dressed casually to give off an air of ease and tranquility. No one needed to know what troubled him, so he slide a pleasant mask over his face and chatted with the young Rolfson amiably, listening to the young man ramble about sports and his dogs and the gala that evening. "I do hope I get to dance tonight. Lerik always gets asked to dance, and he's not even friendly to any of the ladies who come." Loki was only half paying attention to what he was saying but he clapped Arick on the back and smiled.

 

"Come by my rooms before you get ready and perhaps we can dress you so that all the young ladies of Umbreon are vying for your affections." Arick nodded and sat at the breakfast table, digging in to his plate of food the second he hit the chair. Loki sat beside him demurely, nodding a pleasant hello to everyone at the table. He let his eyes drift to the empty chair where Siri usually sat and inquired about the Lady's absence, through he already knew. "My wife said she was feeling a bit ill this morning, and wanted to rest before the gala tonight," Rolf supplied, buttering a slice of thick toast. He gave another one of his grating smiles and Loki dug his nails into his palm to keep from making a face.

 

"I'm sorry to hear that, but I do so hope that Siri feels better by this evening."

 

"Mama will be just fine," Elin said resolutely, her eyes shooting daggers at her father, but only for just a moment. "She just needs rest, the healers say." Within an instant she was once again the quiet sweet girl that said little and heard much.

 

The meal was quiet and he found himself watching Hilde most of it, as she kept up playful and friendly conversation with Elin and Arick. Thor chimed in every once in a while though most of his attention was spent on Rolf and Lerik, and Loki kept his ears perked up for any wayward mentions of devious activity. As it was, father and son were both just as good at keeping up appearances as Loki was so nothing slipped in the conversation that he could possibly use later. When everyone had finished eating he stood, slowly, extending an invitation to Thor for a walk about the property and his brother agreed happily. There were no talks this morning, so they had the majority of the day to their leisure. "I'll see you tonight Rolf," Thor said with a smile, and followed Loki from the dining room.

 

"This is a pleasant surprise, brother," Thor offered, loud enough so that someone could possibly hear, but the moment they rounded the corner and were out of earshot he lowered his voice and pulled Loki close to his side.

 

"What's this I hear about attempted murder and poison and-"

 

"How do you know about all of this already?"

 

"Hilde told me," he said. "Last night, after everyone else had gone to bed." Loki stopped mid-step and glared at his brother. " _Hilde_? Why are you calling her Hilde now?" Gods, he sounded like a jealous little boy, but he couldn't help himself. He thought he was the only one to call her that. And maybe Siri. And possibly Heimdall. But they'd all known her before and-

 

"Because I told him to," a smooth voice behind them said, and they turned to find the aforementioned catching up to them, her hand on the hilt of her sword. She gave Thor a warm smile and it slipped into something much more polite and formal when she faced him. Suddenly, he no longer wanted to take the walk around the estate, no matter what was at stake, but he reeled himself in and repeated Agatha's advice in his head. _Give her space, treat her kindly, and do not lose your temper._

 

"It's good to know you're getting acquainted," he said snidely, and turned to walk off, leaving the two of them staring at his back. For a moment he contemplated leaving them behind but remembered he really did have things to discuss and so he turned back after a few steps and nodded at them to follow him. He swore he saw Hilde roll her eyes. But he knew he would need her council on what steps to take next so he simply graced her with a sweet smile, and ignored how his temper spiked when he saw Thor's hand on the small of her back.

 

Once the entire privy council had discussed the threat to the crown, they begin planning an escape, starting with the people camped at the base of the estate. They met in Bruce and Agatha's room, the most neutral of spots, as it was stationed on the complete opposite side of the house. Hilde gave them all the details that Hertha had relayed about the guards at the camp, and Heimdall startled upon hearing of Siri's poisoning. Agatha offered her services as healer, but Loki cautioned against it, certain that the sudden interest of the royal healer into the health of Lady Siri would cause some talk to get back to Rolf or Lerick.

 

Instead, Bruce decided he could go and investigate. "I can sneak in and maybe get a handle on what he's been using on her. I could even head back to the ship if need be, run some tests." That sounded like a better idea and Thor agreed to it, but not before asking Hilde if she thought Elin would cooperate fully. "You must realize this is her father we're going to be taking down. Umbreon may be a free for all in many ways but murder is still punishable by death her, and attempted murder grants an automatic divorce as well as a lengthy prison sentence." Hilde admitted she wasn't entirely sure.

 

"I haven't known her long enough to know, and honestly, I can't say for sure what her relationship with Rolf is like. But she seemed hellbent on helping us last night once Siri revealed what she knew." The brothers both mulled over it before Loki advised her to keep an eye on Elin. "I'm not saying you can't trust her, but...she's still so young. Were any of us faced with something as difficult as choosing between our parents, well..."

 

"I can't say I would have automatically picked Mother. I hate to admit that," Thor said, rubbing his beard. "I'd have wanted to give Father the benefit of the doubt. And benefit of the doubt doesn't serve us well in this situation."

 

"I think she'll be conflicted. But we'll need you to steer toward the right path," Loki added, and he realized in that moment that it was the most words he'd said to Hilde in days. She sighed, not really paying attention to anyone but the conflict going in her head, and then she gave a resolute nod in agreement. "I'll watch her closely, your Highness," she said softly, and when she smiled, it was genuine and real. Loki forced himself to focus and tore his eyes away from hers begrudgingly. They finished working out a plan of action in case anything went left in the next few days. "Perhaps I should try convincing Rolf that I'm willing to grant him the deed to the land," Thor mused. "If I try to garner some of his good favor, he'll be less inclined to have me killed." Heimdall shrugged. "I can not truly say, your Majesty, but it's worth a shot. Stall as much as possible, make him think that he has a chance at profiting from you and he may stave off any attempts at your life." 

 

They went on like this for hours, until Loki yawned one too many times and Thor dismissed them all. Heimdall had some business in town and asked Agatha along for the ride, while Bruce decided to pay Siri a short visit. "I've got to get fitted for a dress," Hilde said and she wrinkled her nose. "I haven't worn a dress in so long I think I've forgotten how they work." "But you'll come by and-" "Oh definitely," she said, that same sultry smirk from dinner playing about her lips and Loki hastily made his exit, muttering under his breath about needing a nap. He wouldn't give them the pleasure of seeing how irritated and jealous he was, no, not right now. Let Hilde play whatever games she wanted, he wouldn't give anything away. If they had anything to say about his attitude, he'd blame it on being up most of the night.

 

No one had to know that it pained him to think that she'd moved on from him to his brother. He wasn't sure what would bother him most; knowing the woman he loved preferred Thor over him the way everyone else always had or that Thor would betray him as such. He had to know how he felt about Hilde; everyone else obviously did.

 

Everyone but her. 

 

Loki growled in frustration and closed his eyes, draping a long arm over his face and willing himself to sleep. He had only a few hours to nap and he needed to be alert as possible at that gala. But his brain wouldn't shut off; he kept thinking of all the worst things imaginable. Maybe all of this planning and plotting was for nothing. Maybe Thor would be killed or even himself, and everyone left of Asgard would be stuck on Umbreon, doomed to spend their lives as slaves or slaughtered like cattle when they were deemed no longer useful. And what would become of HIlde? Would she die trying to protect them all, or would she be the survivor yet once again? Would she mourn him if he were gone? He wasn't even sure where he stood with her any longer and memories of sweeter times came back to haunt him. On those unhappy notes, he felt consciousness finally slipping away and he drifted into a dreamless sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there's part 1 of the great big Umbreon espionage adventure. Part 2 will be up tomorrow! 
> 
> You know the deal about tumblr. Get after it. @lilithenaltum


	19. xvii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Jealousy, turning saints into the sea".
> 
> Jealousy rears her ugly head at the gala; Hilde and Loki spend most of the evening being petty; Thor has had it with these two and their silly little fight. And the pair finally make up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, double page breaks indicate a change in pov; singles a change in scene. 
> 
> This chapter gave me so much hell and I've rewritten it three times. I really do hope you like it. 
> 
> Comment and let me know if you do. :)

“Poppet, have you seen Mama's powder?”

 

Elin yelled a near inaudible ‘no’ as she trawled about Siriana's enormous closet, in search of the shoes that would match Siri's elegant navy dress. It was fairly modest, with long sleeves and a flowing skirt, but the front still showed a little skin. “Just the way I like it,” Siri had said with a wink. 

 

Resting most of the day (and guzzling tonic after tonic that Elin snuck in after Bruce's quick assessment) had done Siri wonders and she looked much more alert and alive. They still weren't quite sure what kind of poison she'd been ingesting, but whatever it was had been given in small doses so that minimal damage had been done. Elin had been relieved at that, but there was a grief in her young eyes that Hilde hated to see. No one should ever have to deal with something so sinister, especially so young.

 

The ladies all gathered in Siri's dressing room, perusing her closet for outfits to wear to the gala. Agatha had come back from market with Heimdall and at Siri's insistence, also searched for something suitable, but absolutely refused to wear a dress. “I don't do skirts, my lady,” she'd said, and Hilde couldn't stop laughter from bubbling forth. 

 

“I'm not even remotely surprised at that, Agatha. I've seen you in nothing but trousers since we met.”

 

The healer smiled coyly and passed up another beautiful gown in favor of finding some nice pants instead. What she did find made her coo in appreciation. “This will do, I think," Agatha says, and pulled out a beautiful gold jumpsuit, shimmery and elegant. Siri gave a triumphant “aha!” upon finally finding her setting powder, and then looked over to the closet, complimenting the healer on her choice. 

 

“That gold will look absolutely wonderful on you, Agatha. Go ahead and try it on. If it doesn't fit, I'm certain we can get Hertha to work a little magic for us.”

 

Hertha sat on the floor, bare foot and lazy, while she tossed two blades nimbly between her fingers. She would be working behind the scenes with the waitstaff, observing and snooping, and her slim black and gold servers uniform was still lain across one of the settees.

“And what will you be wearing, Hilde?” Siri asked as she dug around in her jewelry box for earrings. “You didn't seem too taken with any of the dresses I brought by yesterday...or are you also a 'pants only' type of girl?” Hilde shook her head and laughed. 

 

“I've worn a dress before, though it's been quite some time. And I think I've only worn one twice in my entire life.”

 

“Have you got any particular preferences?” Agatha asked, and she nodded for Hilde to come into the closet. As she did, Elin popped out with a pair of bone colored shoes, and handed them to her mother.

 

“Not at all,” Hilde responded. She too searched through the racks of dresses, pausing every so often when one caught her eye, but nothing had truly caught her attention yet. It was only when Hertha spoke up did Hilde finally find one. 

 

“I like that one, Mistress,” she said, pointing to a royal blue gown in the back corner. 

 

“Ooooh, Mama, it's one of your classics!” Elin said excitedly. 

 

“Are you sure I can wear this?” Hilde asked, taking the dress from the hanger and spreading it out. The entire thing sparkled like sapphires, a ridiculous amount of beading and embroidery spread across the sheer fabric. It formed a halter at the top and flowed down in a column, with a train of royal blue silk fanning out of the back. It was breathtaking. There was, however, the issue of if Hilde could even wear the thing. Siri was bigger in the bosom and definitely taller, but then Agatha was encouraging her to try it on and Hertha was insisting she'd be able to fix any issue she might have with fit.

 

And so she stripped out of her tunic and leggings, leaving on her bra and underthings, and Elin and Siri helped ease the heavily beaded dress over her head. It fit like a dream. 

 

“Oh Hilde,” Siri breathed, and she helped her turn about until she found a mirror. Hilde was speechless. She'd never worn anything as beautiful as this before and she wasn't even sure if she could move in it, but she would wear it. She had to.

 

She could almost imagine the look on Loki's face when he saw it.

 

Smoothing her hands down her hips she turned here and there, a giant grin plastered on her face. “I suppose I'll have to take the bra off,” she said, mostly to herself, and Siri helped her with the ties on it. It wasn't until she realized she could still see her underthings did she figure she was missing something.

 

“Uh, yeah, so where's the slip to this thing? It's got to have a lining, right?” Elin and Siri were quiet for a bit before they began to giggle.

 

“No slip, my dear,” Siri said, and she pulled out the perfect pair of earrings to match. “Are your ears pierced, Hilde?” Hilde nodded absentmindedly. 

 

“But what am I supposed to wear underneath this then?” 

 

Siriana chuckled a bit. “Nothing.”

 

Elin crawled back into the closet, mindful of the lacy red tea length dress she wore. She dug out soft royal blue slippers with silver trimming and tossed them to Hertha for fitting. “I need your foot, Mistress,” Hertha said, setting her blades aside and lifting one of Hilde's feet to measure.

 

“I don't understand. You mean to tell me I've got to wear this thing naked underneath?”

 

“That's exactly what I mean, love,” Siri said, and she began working on the long braid that trailed down Hilde's back, unraveling it so she could brush the soft brown curls out. “What should we do with her hair, Poppet? Braids down the back, or maybe a crown?” 

 

“A crown,” Elin responded, and she took one of the seidr adjusted shoes from Hertha, slipping it onto Hilde's foot. It fit perfectly.

 

“So I suppose you all are just going to dress me like a doll, then?” Hilde said, pretending to be exasperated, but she found she secretly enjoyed the fussing. Agatha laughed and shuffled around in her makeup bag for some cosmetics. 

 

“You better believe it. We may be having more fun than you are.” 

 

Hilde turned to Hertha and gave her an amused look, then turned back to the mirror so Siri could finish her hair.

 

* * *

* * *

 

“It shouldn't take that long to put on clothes, brother,” Loki heard, and he swore that Heimdall was laughing behind the screen. The four of them had convened in Thor's room, dressing in clothes he hadn't even expected to wear. Rolf sprung two new outfits specifically tailored for the Odinsons on them and Thor insisted they had to accept. He would have been perfectly fine wearing his leathers and usual cape, but he took the clothes with a gracious smile and shrugged them on. Heimdall had bought himself a comfortable but stylish set of clothing, all black and tailored to fit him. Bruce had thought to decline the invitation to the gala, as he wasn't good with crowds, but Agatha had wanted to go and he'd been resigned to borrowing a suit of sorts from Arick. 

 

“He said it was the most casual thing he owned,” Bruce said by way of explanation, and while the clothes were elegant and expensive, they were on the large side. Loki helped in that regard, doing a quick visual assessment and snapping his fingers so that the suit fit Bruce like a glove.

 

“Uh, thanks Loki, I uh...wow. I look pretty snazzy, yeah?”

 

Thor had chuckled at that, but the King was serious as he adjusted his eye patch and glanced at his own reflection in the mirror. “Whoever told Rolf I liked red was sorely mistaken in thinking I meant pants. Red pants, really? Who wears red pants?” 

 

No one commented on that but there was a smirk creeping across Heimdall's face that Loki couldn't bring himself to match no matter how amusing the situation was. His brother had attempted to get him to laugh but he remained gloomy. He was still irritable and Thor seemed oblivious to why. Because you see more of the woman I love than I do, you asshat, he wanted to say, but instead he blamed it, once again, on his lack of sleep. He didn't notice the look that passed between the other three men, nor the knowing smiles they shared.

 

Loki's own outfit was...unusual for him, to say the least, but he wouldn't complain at all about the cut or the fabric. He was dressed head to toe in royal blue velvet, the jacket cut like a kimono and an ornate cape over the top of it. Just to amp up the drama, he lifted his heavy golden helm and did a bit of craft work with his seidr, transforming it into a horned crown instead. He almost smirked at his handiwork and wondered idly if Hilde would even notice.

 

Probably not. But he refused to give up trying and he'd have plenty of time tonight to get her alone. Hopefully he’d be able to talk to her and try to make her see just how sincere he'd been in his declaration of love. He simply had to show her that he was worthy of her love and to do that, he'd have to stop acting like a petulant child and act like a prince.

 

Determined to shake off his sour mood, he finally emerged from behind the screen, moving slowly to the bed where his shoes waited. 

 

“Damn,” Bruce said quietly, and Thor whistled in appreciation. 

 

“You've always had good tastes in clothing, my prince,” Heimdall said proudly, “but this may be the best thing I've seen you in.” 

 

Loki couldn't stop the smile that crept on his face and he slipped on the matching blue loafers, giving his hair a once over once his laces were tied. He'd opted to wear it pulled back away from his face, two Dutch braids forming twin pigtails of dark hair that rested on his shoulders. He turned to his brother, to Heimdall, and finally to Bruce, and flashed them a charming grin.

 

“Well, lads, are you ready to descend? We've got a few would be murderers to catch and...I don't think we ought to keep them waiting.”

 

* * *

* * *

 

The ballroom had been turned into a massive garden, imported flowers and fruit decorating the space in trellises and obelisks, arched canopies of gauzy curtains draped from the massive chandelier that occupied the middle of the high ceilings. Servants and waiters move fluidly between the mingling guests, and Hilde glanced about for sign of Hertha. She found her handing out hors d'oeuvres near a water fountain and when she caught her eye, gave an imperceptible nod. Everything was in place as it should be then. Siri was already in the ballroom; she'd left ahead of the other ladies to greet her guests and take her place at Rolf's side as hostess.

 

Hilde didn't think she'd be able to walk in the dress but it was rather spacious at the bottom and the slippers she wore were incredibly comfortable. She took her time descending the stairs just in case, and vainly, because she liked the way the train spread out behind her as she walked. She felt like a queen in that instance, and she indulged the feeling, not able to help the smile on her face as she rounded the corner into the ballroom. The guys were already there, she knew; Heimdall stood in the corner beside Bruce and as the two of them caught sight of Elin and Agatha in front of her, waved excitedly. She was the shorter of the bunch, and was still concealed from view until, when there was a lull in the music that played, Elin and Agatha moved aside at just the right moment and then all eyes were on her.

 

Hushed whispers surrounded her and Hilde swallowed, sure she had something on her face or that everyone could see through the sheer dress, though Siri had assured her that the jeweled embroidery covered just enough. It didn't dawn on her that people were simply in awe of her, and as she stood in the middle of the ballroom, she searched the faces of stunned people for only one person. Her eyes found brown and blue and even lilac eyes but no green; all types of humanoids and other races of creatures and yet she couldn't help but flicker from face to face until finally, she saw him, standing near the back with a glass of champagne in one hand while he chatted softly with an older woman at his side.

 

He must have realized that the room had quieted noticeably, save for the soft strains of strings and the heavy bow of a viola, because he looked up and she could feel the moment his eyes settled on her and it was then she knew how it felt to truly be seen. With a smile meant only for him she walked until she stood directly in front of him, his guest forgotten and his mouth open in unabashed ardor. Hilde felt her insides warm and she kept her gaze on his, holding her head still, her back straight as she dipped into a perfect curtsy.

 

“My prince,” she murmured, her voice slow like honey and just as sweet, dripping with innuendo and suggestion. She held the pose for several long seconds, silently cursing the burn in her legs and back, but with the slightest flicker of his finger he gestured for her to rise. And then she stepped back, just a bit, and got a good look at him. He was handsome as ever, but the blue velvet of his suit really set off the green of his eyes. He practically glowed, almost otherworldly, and the horned crown he wore further added to the effect. In a word, he looked every inch a prince, refined and damn near perfect, save for the fire dancing in his eyes. He licked his lips and without a word, he offered her his hand.

 

* * *

* * *

 

The party was in full swing and Loki had yet to see any kind of commotion but he felt more at ease when he noticed Hertha, in full waiting costume, serving guests while her eyes scoped out the ballroom. She glanced in his direction shortly and then nodded just a bit, moving through the throng of Umbreonians with ease. 

 

He then turned and found his brother, deep in conversation with two committee members and Rolf, while Siri hung dutifully and daintily on his arm. She, too, glanced his way and she threw him a cartoonish wink, one that almost made him snort with laughter, but her grin was dangerous and Loki was reminded once again that looks could deceive. Bruce and Heimdall stood on their own corner, and Loki knew the watcher's eyes were surveying the scenery more thoroughly than his own could. Bruce was unassuming and came across as harmless, but there was a glint in his eyes that Loki had only seen when he hulked out. It unnerved even him and they were on the same side now; he only hoped that if tonight was when things went left, he would not be in the way of the Hulk’s carnage.

 

He grabbed a flute of champagne and sipped, finding a few of the committee members he was familiar with and greeting them with smiles and handshakes. He moved about the people as if on autopilot, schmoozing up to important tradesmen and complimenting their wives and husbands. Several women and men stopped him to compliment his outfit, to tug at his braids, and flirt shamelessly though many of them were married or old enough to be one of his parents. One woman in particular, the wife of one of Umbreon's councilors, pulled him away from the crowd and to the back, doing her best to exude some sort of sexuality. He didn't want to offend, but he found absolutely nothing appealing about her, and only talked to the annoying woman out of necessity. Her husband held a lot of power with the legislature and was a major key in securing the trade agreement.

 

He was grateful to see Elin and Agatha make their appearance, and for a second, the distraction gave him reprieve from listening to the grating, asinine conversation. But they only waved and turned to talk to Bruce and Heimdall, and he suppressed a long suffering sigh, silently hoping someone or something would save him. It was moments later when the music stilled and the crowd hushed, and he knew right then that she was here. He could feel it. For a second he couldn't see her, as she was shorter than the several people who stood in front of him. But then the crowd parted like a river, their awed whispers like a rush of wind through his ears. And then it was as if no one else in the room existed; not the woman beside him, not Rolf or Lerik lurking in the corner, not Thor or Siri or Heimdall or anyone. He only had eyes for her. The only word that would come to his addled brain was wow, and even then, that was an understatement.

 

She looked absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful, dripping gemstones and jewels like a queen. The royal blue of the gown she wore suited her as if the color had been created just for her. His eyes were drawn to the curve of her waist and the swell of her hips through sheer, flesh tone fabric and his body reacted to the realization that she probably wore nothing at all underneath. She glided across the ballroom floor slow and sure, her face placid and focused on him and knew he was gaping but he could not help himself. Not when she was coming to him, the embodiment of a goddess, a crown of dark braids wound about her head and tiny shimmering gems circling her head like a halo. Two small braids graced her hairline and temples, and they dripped with jewels as well. She granted him a sultry smile and then curtsied, her voice warm and delicious and decadent and he felt all the blood rush from his head to below.

 

"My prince," she purred, her eyes twinkling in the torchlight, and he can not bring himself to speak. He only knew he must touch her, pull her close and breathe her in. She waited, head held high and her spine straight, and he finally moved. A smile lit upon his lips and, without a sound, he offered her his hand. His heart soared when she stood and accepted, and he grinned against her hand when he bent his head to brush warm lips against it. 

 

"You look absolutely ravishing, Brunhilde," he murmured, finally finding his voice, and she beamed like sunshine when she smiled, accepting the compliment graciously.

 

"Thank you, your Highness."

 

Loki doesn’t know how long they stand together like this, with his hand holding hers and their eyes locked on each other, but music starts and he instinctively pulls her out to the middle of the floor, the crowd around them parting further so they have room to move about. He doesn't see Siri motion to the orchestra to play, or see Thor's proud smile or notice Hertha in the shadows, watching with a grin on her face. All he sees is Brunhilde. And then, with his hand spread out on her waist and her other hand on his shoulder, they begin to dance. She is the epitome of grace as they swirl about the floor, her footsteps elegant and practiced and he wonders who taught her to waltz. He thinks to ask her but he doesn't want to speak; he is content simply drinking in her presence, and while the music swells he begins to entertain fantasies of her as his Princess, a sparkling sapphire in the crown of Asgard.

 

He wants nothing but for this dance to last forever, but too soon it is over and for a heartbeat they hold each other. His head bows to meet her and he thinks that she might kiss him, right then and there in front of everyone. He realizes he doesn't care at all if they see; he wants nothing in the world right now but her. But the guests all erupt into applause and Hilde pulls back slowly, breathing deeply as she bows to him. "Thank you for the dance," she says in an almost whisper, and all of a sudden she is gone.

 

* * *

* * *

 

She was not expecting that to happen. When she saw him, walked up to him, and curtsied like a prim and proper lady, she hadn't anticipated the wonder and awe in his eyes. And she hadn't thought he would draw her close to him, his warm hands thrilling her through the gauzy sheer material of her dress, and lead her into a dance. Somewhere in the back of her fuzzy mind she thanked a diplomat's exiled daughter for teaching her how to waltz, and waltz well. It was hard to focus on her steps when he was looking at her like that. She felt like the most beautiful creature in existence under his gaze, like she was the bright too big moon that hung out in the forever dark Umbreon sky.

 

Loki was an expert dancer. It wasn't something she had truly given thought to, but she was reminded with every whirl, every move, that he was indeed royalty. The blue he wore looked magnificent against his luminous skin, and she paid particular attention to just how well it fit him. She hadn't remembered him having that on the ship, but then again, she also hadn't truly seen him in days and perhaps he'd gotten this outfit at one of the luxury boutiques that sat outside the marketplace. Her eyes lifted from his for the briefest of moments, long enough to take in his hair and crown, shimmering gold horns rising tall above his head and he was both dangerous and spectacular in it. She fought the urge to reach up and touch one of them, opting instead to squeeze his shoulder a little harder and his mouth quirked up at the action. And yet, he never said a word as they danced, he simply watched her and and only her. He wasn't aware of a thing around them, she knew, and the thought of having all of his attention fixed so firmly on her both exhilarated her...and terrified her.

 

When the music stopped and their movements slowed, she stood in his arms for a long, blissful moment and savored the feel of him pressed against her. It had been so long since he'd held her, it felt, and she wanted to drag him back to her bedroom, strip him bare of the royal blue velvet, and ride him for all he was worth. And at that instance, she realized that he was worth the entire universe to her, that she would follow him to the very depths of Niflheim if he asked, that she would fight her way through floods and blizzards and wildfires for this man-for Loki, who held her as if she were the sun in the sky. Her breath caught in her chest and she could feel tears welling up inside her, threatening to spill forth and consume her and she panicked, managing to whisper out a rushed thank you before turning and running from the ballroom.

 

He didn't follow her. She wasn't sure if that hurt or if it was relief that barreled through her chest but she could not face him so soon, and so she pressed her back against the wall, hidden from view behind the grand staircase. She could scarcely catch her breath she panted so, her heart stumbling about her rib cage as if it were drunk. And suddenly, for the first time in a while, she sorely wanted to be. With a mental push, she broke from behind the stairs and held her head high again, strolling to a waiter who held sparkling flutes of champagne and wine. She took one of each, gulping the champagne down like water and taking a large draw of the wine. It was red, rich and heady, and went straight to her head after weeks of tea and watered down brandy. The alcohol made her head buzz a little, but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. In fact, it seemed to give her the confidence she needed to flit between the throngs of people and socialize like Siri had insisted she do. Even so, she couldn't help but be cognizant of an intense green stare on her every move.

 

She danced with anyone she wanted though she tried to exude both an air of gaiety and flirtatiousness and careful consideration, so she pretended to be picky. But Bruce took her for a spin about the floor, and Heimdall did too, along with several members of the upper echelon of Umbreon. She drank more wine and ate more hors d'oeuvres, talked and laughed and chatted with wives of diplomats, the sons of merchants and the councilor's young daughter. And through it all, Loki watched her every move, even as he attempted to sell their cause to the big wigs around him. From the looks of things, he seemed to be having some success. He was a beacon and people flocked to him as such. Occasionally she could hear his laughter over the music and the chatter and she forced herself to not stare too long. It was so tempting to simply run to him and ask him disappear with her from the party. But she wouldn’t force his hand; he’d come to her on his own accord. She would not chase him.

 

As dinner was served, and they all sat at the long table to feast, Hilde grew more frustrated when he simply avoided sitting next to her. She took the empty seat beside Thor, who gave her a sympathetic glance. Loki was on the opposite end, a few seats down, seated between Siri and Agatha, and he kept his head turned in the opposite direction. It was making her irritable.

 

"I do think you've thoroughly bewitched my brother," Thor said, and he laid a friendly hand on her forearm. Hilde smiled, but disagreed.

 

"He seems loathe to talk to me. I imagine our dance was simply his way of being polite."

 

She realized she was starting to sound bitter and trite but she couldn’t help how she came across. The night had started so promising. 

 

"It's entirely possible you've got the wrong idea about this entire thing," Thor responded, and his kind blue eye regarded her with a mix of sympathy and knowing. "Besides, you were the one who ran, if I'm remembering correctly."

 

Mid bite, she opened her mouth to protest, but he was right, so she simply finished chewing and stews in silence. Eventually, dinner was done and the guests all filed back to the ballroom, the music striking up again and the party resuming. And she got more and more annoyed that he still wouldn’t talk to her, though he stared at her openly and unashamed. She stared back, scowling prettily all the while.

 

"Maybe he needs a little push,” she heard from behind her. Siri leaned against a column, a cup of warm tea in her hands. Hilde raised a brow and Siri chuckled bitterly. "No liquor for me," she offered by way of explanation. "I'm still...recovering." Her eyes narrowed and shifted to her husband, and the line of her mouth was cruel for a moment before her face smoothed back into something more pleasant and amiable. "But anyway, give that boy a reason to come to you, since you're so above going to him." 

 

Hilde sniffed disdainfully and for a second she really felt like an arrogant aristocrat. "I refuse to chase any man. He'll either come to me or he'll be left without."

 

"And so will you, my dear," Siri intones quietly. 

 

There's a certain amount of truth in that statement that strikes fear inside her. They could very well end up playing this game forever, if they survive the next few days, and she can not have that. She's tired of being without, she's hungry. And so she lifts her skirts, hands Siri her half empty glass of champagne, and ignores her friend calling her to stalk through the ballroom floor towards her partner in crime. 

 

"Wait!" Siri calls, and she sets the flute down on a nearby bench. She catches the King's eye, nods emphatically at Hilde,  and gracefully skids across the floor in the opposite direction.

 

Thor's not busy, Hilde notices, standing beside one of the trellises with Heimdall and laughing about something. His face shifts several times before she gets to where he is, a process that takes longer than it should because of how thick the crowd is, and he hesitates when she holds out her hand to him. This is it, she thinks, this is the catalyst. She has spent the entire evening entertaining everyone, but she hasn't danced with Thor. And perhaps this is the push Loki needs to get his head out his ass and come to her. With a wry grin, she entreats him to come dance. 

 

"I haven't had the honor of spinning about the room with the King," she says coyly, ignoring Heimdall's all knowing gaze. Had she looked, she'd have known there was a warning in his gold eyes, but she slips her hand into Thor's large one and attempts to lead him to the ballroom floor. The King is a rock however, and does not bulge, his smile faltering just a bit as he looks over he head toward something or someone behind her. She scowls. "What's wrong? Don't tell me you don't dance. I've seen you twirling around." 

 

He laughs and she has the odd feeling that he may be stalling. "I really and truly am honored you'd want to dance with me," Thor begins, and he shifts his eye back to Hilde. "I promised the next song to someone else and-oh! here she is, Siriana, glad you remembered our, uh, our dance." 

 

Siri blinks for a split second too long and Hilde realizes she's been thwarted. She shoots the older woman a look, but wipes the expression from her face when she catches Heimdall's disapproving glare. It sobers her a bit and she realizes maybe just maybe her little plan hadn't been such a good idea. She quickly looks around for Loki but doesn't see him anywhere and she wonders if maybe he's left the gala altogether. The thought both disappoints her and relieves her.

 

"Yes, that's right, you promised me my very own waltz." Siri tilts her head and looks to Thor meaningfully. "But the song isn't suitable at the moment, so we uh...we'll..."

 

"You needed to discuss a little bit more about tonight's activities, in reference to Hertha and her mission," Heimdall added helpfully. "We were to meet in the adjacent dining room, if my memory serves me well." Siri's smile brightened, almost unnaturally. "Exactly! And uh...we need the Prince. Have you seen the Prince, Heim? I'd like to get his thoughts on-"

 

"Brother!" Thor's boisterous voice rumbles over the music and Loki stops stock still in his tracks, looking like a deer in headlights. Hilde would find it amusing if she wasn't so irritated. Thor waves Loki over and the younger brother follows, slowly, as if he's scared this is some trap. "Look, we've got some things that need to be discussed and Siri suggested we meet in the dining room. Think you could find Hertha-"

 

"Present and accounted for, your Majesty." The girl sneaks up on all of them so that everyone but Heimdall jumps in surprise.

 

"You're really good at that, dear," Siri says, a hand pressed to her chest and she laughs nervously. 

 

"Yeah, it comes in handy,” Hertha says proudly. "So what are we doing?"

 

"Having a meeting," Thor explains. "In the dining room. We're locking the door. We'll need a spell, uh, to keep prying ears away from...um, the conversation and whatever." 

 

Hertha glances between the adults and considers all of this for a bit before she shrugs and sets her tray to the side. Hilde does her best to look anywhere but Loki and he seems to be oddly resigned to something. But she tosses the thought aside and the group split up into pairs, heading to the dining room stealthily so as not to raise too much suspicion.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Loki realizes belatedly that this is a probably a trap, but he also doesn't have the energy fight it so he doesn’t protest. He pairs up with Thor in sneaking off to the dining room, and his brother stops him outside the door, motioning for him to meet him in a dark corner. From this angle he can see inside the room just enough to see how Hilde's dress sparkles in the dimmed lights. 

 

"She misses you," Thor says, serious as he'd ever been, and Loki watches the reflection of the jewels on the carpet instead of looking at Thor's intense stare. It's like he's looking deep inside of him, right down to his heart. He hates feeling so exposed. "And you've been avoiding her all week, treating her as if she's a stranger, like you haven't spent the last two months warming her bed." His eyes flick up at that quip and it's on the tip of his tongue to argue, but Thor looks absolutely tired of all the drama, his face stoic and hard the way Odin's had been when Loki did something remarkably stupid. Even still, he must defend himself.

 

"She won't talk to me, you mean," he says sourly, and Thor snorts.

 

"The two of you have been avoiding each other like the plague, actually, so I suppose I can't put all the blame on you. But someone has to bend, or the two of you will break. You're going to have to make your mind up; do you want her or do you only want to string her along?" 

 

Loki opens his mouth to protest, but clamps it shut when Thor holds up his hand. "I'm not done. And I don't want to have to do this, but I will order the two of you to hash whatever is going on between you out or so help me the both of you will be in some serious hot water." 

 

Loki tries not to pout like a child, only it's hard to not look petulant and childish when he's being scolded. "I really don't understand what this has to do with you," he mumbles out, but he regrets saying it aloud when his brother scrubs his face and suddenly, Thor looks older than he is.

 

"I'm tired. You're tired, we're all tired and scared and nervous wrecks who only want food to feed our people and fuel to get to a safe haven. And honestly, Loki, I don't even know if Midgard will truly be a safe haven. If Asgard wasn't at the end, what about this place? There's only so many of us but it feels like I've got to do the impossible! I've got to keep all of you safe and well and I...I never asked for this. I never thought I'd have to do something like this but here I am, grovelling at the feet of old men who don't care if we starve and only give us audience for the sake of our father's memory. His memory is all we've got right now, Loki. And we're all we have. You and I and Heimdall, Bruce and Agatha. And Brunhilde. Your Brunhilde, who I might add, is not in love with me."

 

"I wasn't even going to-"

 

Thor barks out a short laugh. "You were thinking it. I'm almost at the point I can read your mind now." Loki rolls his eyes but he feels like an absolute asshole and he though that's exactly what he'd been trying to avoid being, he somehow managed to pull it off anyway. _Good going, Loki._

 

"Whatever mind you're reading," Loki retorts, "It couldn't have possibly been mine." He pauses, and then lets out a soft sigh. "But fine. I had perhaps...wondered. I can not say that I would blame her for doing better than what she's had."

 

And then Thor had smiled, soft and kind and Loki is reminded of Frigga so acutely it hurts. "But truly, what could she possibly have that is better than you?" he says, clasping Loki by the neck affectionately and gestures for him to enter the dining room.

 

"So what new information do you have, Hertha?" Loki asks, but the girl looks between Thor and Siri and shakes her head. 

 

"I haven't found anything yet," she said, confusion in her voice. "I was thinking maybe the rest of you had a heads up on what was going on." 

 

Siri clears her throat nervously and glances to Thor who shook his head and began to speak. "Look, the reason we called you in here has nothing to do with...well, everything going on." He looks to Hilde, who stands quietly against the table, and then to Loki while he talks. "The lot of us are pretty tired of the two of you playing this silly little game with each other and it needs to stop. Tonight." 

 

Hilde frowns, her hands on her hips as she regards Thor. “Excuse me? You told me to make him miss me, to make him jealous...that's precisely what I've been trying to do!" 

 

Thor shook his head, ignoring the look of shock on Loki's face. "But not with me," he responds, and his voice holds no room for argument, so Hilde keeps her mouth shut. "You will not use me in a petty game to make my brother feel like he is the lesser. Trust me, I knew exactly what you were up to the second you marched over and asked to dance. And you," he continues, turning to Loki. "You really can not expect to win the heart of anyone by pretending like she doesn't exist."

 

"Agatha told me to leave her be so I-"

 

Thor growls, and slams his fist on the table. Loki lowers his eyes, and swallows a nasty retort, struggling to keep his own temper under wraps so he isn't on the receiving end of Norns knows how many volts of electricity. "I know what Agatha told you because she came to me for council on the matter first. She advised you to be kind and considerate of her emotional space, yes, but she didn't' tell you to blatantly ignore her! I'm not sure where the two of you got your wires crossed in this whole situation, but it's out of control and I'm sick of it. Neither of you are to leave this room until you come to a mutual understand. Do you understand?!"

 

For several long and quiet moments there is no response, just the sound of their shared breathing and the distant noise of the party outside. Loki finally lifts his eyes to his brother and nods one time, watching from his peripheral as Hilde begrudgingly does the same. He meets Hilde's guarded gaze, the brown eyes narrowed in annoyance. 

 

"It will be taken care of, your Majesty," she says dully, exhaustion in her voice that mirror's Loki's mood. Thor considers them for a moment longer and then he claps his hands together. 

 

"Good...good, just uh, come find me when you've done killing each other or fucking or whatever you're going to do. And don't think I won't know if you haven't solved this. I will. Heim will." 

 

"I definitely will," Siri offers with a smirk, and Hilde looks at her as if she'd been betrayed, but Siri ignores this in favor of pressing a kiss to her cheek and then another to Loki's. "Good luck!" she calls cheerfully, filing out behind the others, and then the door is locked.

 

There is no movement after they leave the dining room, until with a rustle of skirts, Hilde flops down and curses. She searches for something to throw, but finds nothing, and starts to laugh instead. "How quaint. I'm trapped in a room with a man who only wants me when he can't have me."

 

"Hilde...please. Don't do this," he says, and she falters slightly when she catches his eye. "I'm tired of this."

 

But her feelings are still bruised and she doesn't want to back down. Instead, she crosses her arms in front of her and stares at the wall ahead, sucking in air to keep her calm. She will not give in, she will not fight him right now. She will do what she's done all week...and ignore him, confuse him, hurt him.

 

Neither of them talk for the better part of an hour. She won't budge and neither will he, but the silence is wearing on his frayed and fragile nerves and he is acutely aware of her still there.

 

And so, though he gets no response for a while, he begins to talk.

 

* * *

 

 

"You know, I've never truly been in love before." 

 

He's been rambling for a while, telling the odd story here and there and philosophizing about their lot in life. He doesn't dare talk about Rolf and the trade agreements for fear of their being prying ears around. When he tells her of Jotunheim and the reveal of his true heritage, something in her face changes. She is silent, the only indication she's acknowledging his presence the flicker of her eyes to him every so often. It's like talking to himself, but it's better than nothing. And he needs to get this out anyway. He figures, whatever happens tonight, she needs to know. 

 

"I'm sure I told you that once before, but it's true. Love was something that happened to everyone else but me. Of course, it's not as if I didn't want love. No, I craved it. Love and respect, and trust and friendship. All the things required to create a relationship but all of those seemed to elude me. And I became bitter. It didn't help that Thor could have all of that without ever really trying."

 

"Why are you telling me this?" she says finally, quiet and sullen, but the sound of her voice spurs him on. At least she's talking, at least she's listening. 

 

"Because I want you to know. I need you to understand. I've spent my entire existence feeling like I don't belong. I've always felt like the unwanted son, an afterthought, while my glorious golden brother outshone me. And as a child, I thought, at least I'd be alright if I had my mother and maybe one day I could become Thor's equal so that Fath-Odin would love me as well." He scoffs derisively. "Perhaps he loved me in his own way. He did care for me in a fashion, raised me from infanthood to adulthood, fed and clothed and educated me. But he never thought much of me, at least not until the end. And then it was too late."

 

"What's this got to do with me?" Hilde asks. 

 

Loki supplicates his hands and answers her honestly. "For the first time in my life I had someone who wanted me. You never expected me to be anything but myself. I thought you liked me just because I was me...and that meant so much more than you will ever truly understand." She doesn't respond to that at first, but he can tell she is thinking about what he said. When she looks at him this time, he can feel waves of sadness pour off of her. 

 

"Meant? So that's it then?" She shrugs as if it doesn't matter. "I guess it's all for the best. We've run our course, you got what you wanted-"

 

"You're not...you haven't been truly listening to a word I said, have you?" he interrupts. Why doesn't she understand what he's trying to say? But he lowers his voice and tries again. "I'm telling you all this because I want you to understand that what we had, whatever we started on that ship wasn't simply a fling to me. It wasn't a mistake. I need to apologize to you. I'm so sorry, for whatever slights and wrongs and ills I have done to you, I truly mean it, I'm sorry." He shakes his head and runs his hands across his eyes, doing his best to not betray himself by crying. "I reacted out of hurt. You hurt me, Hilde, you must understand that."

 

Hilde reacts by snorting, her lower lip stuck out defiantly. "I can't imagine that I've hurt you too much. I've spent the better part of this entire week wanting nothing more than for you to look at me and you ignore me the entire time-"

 

"I'm sorry," he says again. 

 

She stands up abruptly, circling around to where he's slouched against the wall. "Are you? Are you truly?" When Loki nods she barks out a disbelieving laugh and then she's pacing, back and forth in the gilded gown. "Good. Be sorry. But this...whatever this was, it's over. You and me, we're not meant for anything other than what we were and...I don't even know if we were anything, I don't know if I can even trust my judgement when I'm around you because I can't think straight when you're around me, I can't get a grip on reality when you're nearby. No one should have this kind of affect on me, no one, I call the shots, I make the rules. And I say we're done."

 

He thinks he should probably try and dissuade her but she's already doing a good job of talking herself out of breaking up. "We are through. You don't have any hold on me anymore. You're a notch in my bedpost, just like all the others were. I can't believe I told you about Gunnr, about my sisters, about my past! I don't know what I was thinking, except that I wasn't thinking and-"

 

"You trusted me." He says it out loud the second he realizes that she had started to trust him and it sparks a little hope in him that he grabs hold to no matter how hard it is to. "You trust me still, even though I've hurt you. And I have, and I'm sorry. I know me saying that won't make up for it, I know." He stands up then and stops her from pacing, pulling close to him her by the shoulders. She shrugs him off angrily but he grabs her wrists and plants her in front of him so that he can finish. "But I need you to really think about what you're saying. I need-"

 

"I don't care what you need!", Hilde growls, and she pushes at Loki's chest, tears of anger and frustration blurring her vision. He grabs her wrist again and tugs her close to him, his grip loose so that she can easily break free. For a moment he thinks she will run away again, but she stills this time. She's too tired to keep fighting him.

 

"Okay, okay fine, good I...I deserve that, but I care! I care what you need." He pleads with her, his eyes wide and desperate, but she scoffs and rolls her eyes.

 

"This is about the deal, isn't it? You miss what we had and now you want to-"

 

He shakes his head frantically. "No, no just listen to me Brunhilde, please. Listen. I don't want the deal anymore. I don't want it. I want you. I need you. I don't want whatever we have to come with a long list of terms and conditions that we must abide by. I only want you the way you are. That's it." 

 

Hilde turns her eyes to the ceiling and the first tears fall, silently and slowly. He wants to brush them away and cup her face in between his hands, kiss her softly and make this all better. "You don't want me the way I am, Lackey," she says softly, and the hope inside him burns a little brighter. He'd missed her calling him that so very much. 

 

"I do. I'm telling you right now that I do. You're a mess, darling, but so am I. You're broken and damaged just like me. We're two very angry and fucked up people who don't fit well with many people, but when I'm with you...when I'm with you I feel like I do fit. I belong. And I was scared that night that I'd misread you. I thought you would never truly want me the way I want you."

 

Hilde looks at him them and frowns. "So why didn't you let me apol ogize then? I really wanted to."

 

He smiled, and slide his hands into hers, heartened when she curled her fingers around his own. "Because pride was all I had. I didn't believe you, not at first. I was hurt, and I thought...I figured maybe I could hurt you too if I..."

 

"If you took away the deal." She sighs, and then tilts her head and the gems in her hair sparkle when she does. It looks as though the heavens halo her around face. "Look, I'm sorry, too. I really mean that."

 

"I know", he says with a cautious  smile.

 

"And I don't want you to think I was ever using you. I wasn't. You didn't have to help me when you did. You were never obligated at all to care whether I slept soundly through the night, but you did and I...I've treated you like you never meant a thing to me when you did. You do. That night in the storeroom? I didn't mean what I said, not truly. I overreacted."

 

"I understand that."

 

She pulls her hands up and rests them on his chest, sliding them up to toy with the braids that lay across his blazer. "Do you?,”  she asks, looking up at him with tear shot eyes.

 

"I think I do," Loki responds, after a second of thought. He thinks of what Agatha told him and realized now he'd not truly listened to her like he should have. "I overwhelmed you, I overdid it. I told myself I'd wait, and I didn't and-"

 

Hilde shook her head and frowned, confused. "What do you mean, you'd wait? You did mean what you said, right?"

 

"I did. I do. I love you." He laughed, wiping the tears from the corner of his eyes. "Gods, Hilde, I love you. So much. You stubborn woman, I absolutely am crazy about you. And I meant it when I said it and-"

 

"But why would you want to wait?" She’s still confused, but her face brightens like the sun at his declaration this time and instead of shrinking away, she steps closer to him.

 

"Because I thought I'd scare you away. And look, I did! You ran from me like-"

 

Hilde shook her head frantically and pulled him flush to her, needing the warmth of his body. "No, no I...when I said that I meant..." She swallows and begins again. "Look, you told me you loved me. And that's what scared me, not the timing. It'd scare me no matter when you said it, Loki. You scare me. Norns, I love you and you scare me so much." 

 

He wraps his arms around her tighter and lowers his head to press a kiss into her hair. He is  so utterly happy that she loves him back, that she's finally said it out loud, and yet, she scares him as well. He wonders if this is what love should feel like; stumbling headfirst into the unknown, his heart held between the hands of one remarkable woman. She owns him body and soul. 

"I'm sure I scare a lot of people," He quips, if only so that she'll smile instead of cry. Hilde lets out a watery laugh and shakes her head. 

 

"Not the way you scare me," she says. "The last time I loved someone or let them into my heart, they died for me. She's gone and I survived when I shouldn't have. No one should have to go through something like that, but I did. I can't do that again, though. Do you understand? If something happened to you-"

 

"I've nearly died twice. I'm pretty hard to kill."

 

Hilde rolls her eyes and scoffs. "Don't joke about this! I'm telling you to not fuck around and die on me or leave me or break my fucking heart, you ass, because if you do one of us won't survive it. I don't think I could get through that this time."

 

He raises her chin and meets her eyes, green on brown, a serious expression on his face and she takes in a shuddering breath.

 

"I can't promise you that I won't die. I won't promise you that I won't hurt you again or get on your nerves or make you want to kick my ass. Because I will hurt you, most likely and you will want to murder me, I'm sure of it. That's who I am, and that's what you're getting. Me, all of me. This and her and...and everything else that comes with it. But I will promise you that I will never stop trying to be what you deserve. I promise I'll never forsake you, I'll never leave your side or let you go. If I break your heart, it won't be of my own doing. And if I die, I promise you I will have done everything in my power to live for you."

 

She is quiet for a while and she trails fingers along the side of his face, stopping at his lips and he presses a kiss to her thumb. 

 

"Do you trust me?" she asks, and Loki nods. There is a determined look in her eye and it gives him pause, because he thinks he knows what she'll ask him now. 

 

"It's not pretty, Hilde, I don't think you want to-"

 

"Please, Loki. Show me. You said I'm getting all of you, right? Show me all of you."

 

He hesitates, his eyes searching hers for anything, any kind of duplicity but he sees nothing but affection and love. And so he steels himself, forces himself to relax as his lids slip shut, and then the Aesir glamour that he wears like second skin fades until he is left with his true nature. He doesn't dare open his eyes just yet; he hears Hilde draw in a shaking breath and she touches his skin, feather-light and gentle.

 

"Who ever told you you were ugly? Who...my god, Loki, you're _beautiful_."

 

When he opens red eyes, there are tears in hers and she is smiling and he has never in all his days loved someone so much and so deeply. 

 

"Not the adjective I was thinking of but...I'll...I'll take it." 

 

She snorts and then giggles, tracing her fingertips along the lines in his flesh, his blue skin prickling under her touch. "It's not like I didn't know...there were rumors, and I figured something was different about you. I really just thought you were kidding about the whole 'left in a temple and adopted by the Allfather' thing, but...well, I suppose you weren't bluffing about that. I will admit, you don't look much at all like any of the Jotun I encountered back in my day."

 

"You say that like you're so old."

 

"I'm technically old enough to have been your mother," Hilde says, and she leans into his chest, hearing the thump thump thump of his heart. It's loud and strong and comforting. "You're half my age and I'm totally robbing the cradle."

 

Loki laughs, and there is a joy in his eyes that makes her happier than she's been in a long time. "I'm a man grown, so it doesn't matter. What matters is that you've got a young buck who is practically insatiable in his appetite for you. The perks of dating younger, you know. Stamina." 

 

She laughs richly and tugs his mouth down to kiss, and she marvels at the different texture of his lips like this. They are still soft and sweet and he still kisses her so deeply she is left breathless. When he pushes his hips into her, she gasps against his mouth, tugging hard at one of his braids and his scalp prickles pleasantly.

 

"This doesn't change anything then?" he asks, and she knows he means his heritage. His voice is small and tenuous but she smiles. 

 

"If you're worried about me being repulsed by bedding a Frost Giant, then no. I've slept with stranger beings before." 

 

He laughs at that and kisses her again, capturing teeth and tongue into his mouth and she lets her hands wander across his shoulders, down to the small of his back, tugging him as close as humanly possible. "Loki," she whispers against his mouth, and she meets red eyes with brown ones, marveling at how very beautiful he is like this.

 

"Hmm? What is it sweetheart?"  Oh, how she'd missed that. She smiles then, traces the shell of his ear with her fingertips so that he shivers. 

 

"Do you think they'll miss us if we don't leave this room right now?"

 

Loki smiled slowly, the sharp edges of his teeth glistening in the light. "I don't think they even expect us back now. Not for hours and hours. The night is still young." 

 

Hilde slips her hands underneath the hem of his velvet blazer, tugs at his tunic until she comes into contact with more warm flesh. "Good. I've been wondering what it would take to get you out of this damn outfit since our dance and I really want to find out how far these markings extend. Could I have a peek, my prince? Maybe even a taste?" 

 

He lowers his head and chuckles into her skin, and then bites down, softly but just enough that her blood spikes. And then he lifts his head just so that his lips graze her earlobe. The sex in his deliciously deep voice turns her knees to putty.

 

"I'm all yours, my love. I'm all yours."

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hilde really did think he was joking about being Jotun. She's not too phased by the whole thing though; lord knows what kind of folks she encountered on Sakaar. Ain't nothing like diversity to root out bigotry.
> 
> If you're curious to know what everyone's outfits looked like, I've made a post on my tumblr. Link is in the comments, should be the first one.
> 
> SMUT NEXT CHAPTER. Nothing but smut. They deserve it. :D
> 
> I'm on tumblr and so is the Shake Down the Stars soundtrack. Come say hi | lilithenaltum


	20. xviii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hilde and Loki spend a few hours of alone time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's not much to this chapter as far as plot goes. It's smut and some fluff and a little humor. And that's it. But hey, sometimes that's a good thing innit?
> 
> Comment if you too have wondered about what Jotnar dick looks like.

Outside of Siriana's dining room the gala continues in full swing. The music is louder, the guests rowdier, and liquor flows like water. Outside the dining room, alliances are made, pacts are settled, and conspiracies coagulate and form to be enacted on another day. Outside the dining room does not matter at all to Brunnhilde; it is only inside that does.

 

She sits on the dining room table, legs spread with Loki in between and he is nibbling at her lips, his hands trailing up and down her calves and thighs. He pushes the bejeweled skirt high until it pools at her waist and she tugs at his tunic to pull it up and off of him. She wants his skin and she wants his hands and mouth all over her, but he seems content to stroke her legs slowly and taste her mouth. But he moves backward, his red eyes shining in the dim room, and strips himself of the soft tunic, tossing it into the pile of blue velvet gathered on the floor. “Impatient, aren't we?” he purrs, voice as rich as molasses and twice as delicious, and Hilde crooks her finger, motioning for him to come to her. “I've wanted this for days,” she confesses, and when he steps in between her parted thighs once more, she wraps her strong legs around him, hitching her knees up until she is flush against him. “So stop stalling and fuck me.”

 

Loki raises a brow, but he is both amused and aroused she can tell, if the bulge in his pants is anything to go on. “Such language, my love,” he murmurs, lowering his head once more to drag his lips from her jawline. “You curse like a soldier.” She giggles and moans when he tip toes his fingertips along the inside of her thighs, gooseflesh pimpling the skin there and she moves her hips so that she is grinding against him. “I _am_ a soldier,” she remarks. “ _Stop stalling and fuck me_.” “What if I don't want to?” Loki asks, and he shifts his hands from her thighs to her core, finding her bare beneath the dress. He grins against her throat and dips two long fingers to touch her there, the flesh hot and wet. “Like you'd stop now,” she breathes out. “As if you could...hmmm...as if you would dare.”

 

He pulls back, just a bit, though he can't go far with the grip her legs have on his waist, but it's enough for him to truly see her face. “Maybe I want something a little more tonight,” he says, softly. Hilde assesses him through hooded eyes, lust and desire fogging her brain. “Take what you want,” she replies, and she lies back on the table, dragging the dress up so that she exposed to him. Loki says nothing to this, but he does lean forward again, spreading his palms across her quivering belly and further out to her sides. She arches her back from the cool table as he touches her, leans into his hands, silently urging him to hurry.

 

But he does not rush. He spends long minutes simply mapping the expanse of her flesh, dipping his head every so often to suck on her salty skin and leave marks across her torso. Overheated and anxious, Hilde struggles to pull the dress completely off but is thwarted by the halter and the weight of the expensive material. Wordlessly, Loki reaches up and quickly unlatches her so that she shrugs it off and over to the floor, naked now except for her slippers and jewelry.

 

“You've got far too many clothes on, my prince,” she breathes, reaching up to drag her hand down his chest. She marvels at the markings that rise like etchings in his blue skin, traces a trail from his sternum to his belly button and slips a finger into the waistband of the blue velvet pants. He bites her hip so that she yelps then laughs, but he obeys, unbuttoning the trousers quickly and sliding them down. Hilde palms him through his underclothes, eliciting a gasp from him and he moves his hips unconsciously along with her hand, until he is panting out for her to stop. “I need to taste you,” he whispers, and he drops to his knees in front of her, where her legs hang off the edge of the table. Hilde scoots her bottom closer to the edge and drapes her knees across his shoulders, and Loki kisses up the insides of her thighs, until he is right at the precipice of where she so very badly wants him.

 

For a moment he stills, content to blow warm air on her bare skin, to touch her leisurely with feather light fingertips but she squirms and growls, reaching down to grasp his face in her hands. “I swear if you don't stop teasing me,” she begins but she has no words to continue after because he finally tastes her, swiping his talented tongue from top to bottom and she groans, desperate for more. He starts slow and tortuously, until he too is desperate to make her cum, and when she pleads for more, he sucks her into his hot mouth, slides that silvertongue inside her and holds her hips steady so he can completely devour her. Hilde has no control of the noises that come from her mouth and she doesn't care enough to stop them. Her body bends from the table as her pleasure builds and she slides her hands into his hair, tugging hard at the dutch braids that have begun to unravel. And as she jerks and moves against his mouth, riding his tongue and teeth and lips, he chases her so that the build up is unrelenting and overwhelming. She cums with a sharp cry, her heartbeat drowning out any sound and her legs shaking like jelly.

 

While she works to catch her breath, boneless and sated, he strips the rest of his clothes off and from where she lies, she only sees an outline of his body. It is the same body, only a change in skin color and texture, but she is still curious, so she forces herself upright to see more. He stands still and allows her to touch him, slow and sure, and she scrapes her nails along the markings on his hips and belly so that he quivers. “Careful, sweetheart,” he growls out, but he makes no move to stop her so she lets her hands wander lower, dragging her fingers through the wiry bush of hair that grows above his cock. And then her eyes drop, her hand sliding along the hard, hot velvety skin there and he hisses, his body jerking when her thumb circles the tip.

 

With a grin on her face she slides from the table till she's kneeling before him and from this angle she can get a better look. He looks much the same, she's somewhat surprised to find, only that he's, of course, blue. She glances up to find him staring at her expectantly and she bites her lip, letting out a soft laugh at how silly her thoughts about what he'd look like down there were. “What's so funny?” he asks, his voice thick with need. “You know, I honestly thought that you'd look...different.” Loki shakes with laughter but it fades into a moan when she swipes her tongue alongside the head of him. “Tastes the same too,” she says when she pulls back and he chuckles breathlessly. “It's not exactly the same,” he confesses, his hands coming down to stroke her cheek. Hilde raises a brow, and works her hand on him at a leisurely pace. When his hips begin to move along with her, she slows to a stop so that he groans. “Oh? Looks just the same to me. It only feels a wee bit...different. I don't dislike it though,” she says, hoping she hasn't offended him. “I didn't want to turn you off, sweet girl,” he offers as an explanation. “But if you insist on uh, seeing...well...let go for a second so I can-”

 

She drops his cock, and curious, watches as the very last traces of glamour drop to reveal every Jotnar inch of him. It's thicker and bluer, dark navy at the base and royal at the tip, with a blunt bulbous head and little ridges on the underside. She's pleased to find that his markings extend all the way to the very head of him, and her eyes widen in admiration. As far as cocks go, it's not at all unpleasant to look at though it is unusual. “Close your mouth,” he mumbles and she does, deliberately, though she hadn't even been aware that it was open. “It's big,” she whispers and then he laughs, though she knows he was nervous to know how'd she react.

 

"Yes, I'm aware."

 

Hilde rolls her eyes and then reaches out to touch him, her fingers grazing the ridges that ran from top to bottom of the shaft so that he sucks in a sharp breath and jerks his hips. "And you hid this from me? Tsk tsk, Lackey." There's the unspoken point of his insecurities concerning his true visage, even more so about something so personal, and yet she gives it no real thought right then. Instead, she circles the base of him and slides her hands up and down. Licking her lips she leans forward and opens her mouth, ignoring his warning. "You're not going to be able to fit....oh....all of... _hmmm_." And she _can't_ fit all of it into her mouth, but she gets as much as she possibly can, her tongue massaging hot, salty skin and her teeth just barely scraping the top of him. 

 

She lifts her eyes to watch him as she sucks him off, the sight of this powerful and startling man at her mercy so arousing that she slips her fingers between her legs and slides them inside of her, moaning around his cock while she strokes herself in time with the pumping of her hand at the base of him. His hands grasp the crown of braids on her head and he sinks his fingers into the thick hair, something she'd usually have his throat for, but she lets it slide this one time if only because of how good he looks right now. His head hangs back, his throat bobs as he swallows and pants and groans, and he struggles to keep his hips still as he can so he does not choke her. She knows he is close when he stutters out expletives, when his body stiffens and the hand in her hair tugs tight enough to cause tears, and this time she keeps her mouth on him, takes all of him in and swallows it down greedily. It is only when she pulls back, a string of spit trailing from her mouth to his cock, does he look to her again and the intensity in his eyes trigger her second orgasm, so that she stumbles on her knees as she rides her own fingers. Growling her name, he pulls her up to stand on shaking legs and then hauls her bodily up to the table, pushing her thighs open quickly and pulling her into a hot, sloppy kiss. 

 

"Tell me you want me," he says and he slides his cock along her swollen clit. " _Tell me, my love_. Tell me you _need_ me." Hilde presses her forehead to his and stares into his eyes, wrapping her arms around him tightly. "I want you," she whispers, and he grins, beautiful and terrible and lines himself up to push home. When he shifts his hips forward, however, he's met with resistance and Hilde jerks backwards. He's too big, she realizes, at least like this he is, no matter how wet and ready she is for him. Lining him up once more, she spreads her legs wider and lifts from the table a bit, trying to change the angle. But it's not working and when he thrusts forward again, she pushes him back.

 

"Wait wait wait _waaaait_ ," she pants, and he pulls back, eyes wide. "Did I hurt you?" he asks, and she shakes her head. "No, no...you're fine, I just..." She swallows, and grips him again, her hands slick with her own wetness and sweat and she tries again, slower. But the angle is weird and wrong and she huffs in frustration. "I can always change back to-" Hilde shakes her head and pushes him back, sliding off the table again and pointing to the floor. "Get down there. I'm gonna...try something else." Loki lowers himself to the carpeted floor and grabs his tunic for a little bit of cover, stretching out on his back while HIlde mounts him. She positions him at her entrance once more, rocking forward and backward to find the perfect angle to take him in. And then, finally, she does, though the stretching is much more than she's used to and she has to go slow, so very very slowly. It burns but she doesn't make a sound, her mouth fixed in a silent 'o' and her face scrunched in concentration and discomfort. And yet, she doesn't want to tell him it hurts her even a bit. She knows he'll stop.

 

He grips her hips and does not move, looking at her intently to watch if she winces or hisses. When she does, as the head of him finally inches inside her, he strokes her skin soothingly and sucks in deep breaths. "Love, we can stop. You don't have to do this if it hurts." Hilde opens her eyes and shakes her head stubbornly. "I'm a fucking _Valkyrie_ ," she grits out and she sinks down a bit further, groaning at how full she is. She keeps going anyway. She wasn't raised a quitter. "Fuck," she whispers and she brings her shaking hands up to grasp his. "I can handle dick like a champ. It'll...get better in a bit...just give me time to...oh fuck, Loki." She blinks her eyes furiously as she slides down even more, and her thighs burn with the exertion it takes to keep herself hovering above him. Loki moves his hands from her waist to her ass and holds steady, giving her a little break but he still does not move. He allows her to move at her own speed, until finally, after more cursing and groaning, he's as deep as he can get. 

 

He's so thick it's unbelievable. She feels like he'll split her in two if she moves too fast so for a while she simply lets her body adjust to the invasion, only wiggling her hips when she thinks she can handle moving. Pressing her palms to his chest, she lifts up and the ridges of his cock catch along the inside of her tight walls, eliciting a sharp gasp and a full body shudder. She pauses, just the tip of him still joined with her and then she meets his gaze, his eyes blown with lust and red like wine. The grip he has on her ass tightens and she nods, so that he shifts his hips up underneath her at the same instance she moves down and then she sings, a loud unabashed cry of pure shock and pleasure ringing from her throat. "Fuck fuck _fuck_ oh holy fuck that...feels so..." Her eyes slip closed in bliss when he pulls her up and does it again, and then again, slowly but steady and finally she finds the rhythm and moves in tandem with him.

 

For a while, her brain has not the capacity to think and all the nerves in her body are on attention, especially the ones between her thighs. She can feel every little bit of him, from the veins in the shaft and even the slightly raised markings in his skin. And the only thing she can do, as she rides him-slow and deep and carefully-is feel. He feels so _very_ good, and it is almost too much to handle but she perseveres, rotating her hips in a circle as she slides back down, and then the both of them are crying out at the pleasure of it all. She's so wet now that she can take him easier, and so she moves faster, digging her nails into his chest, her head tossed back and her eyes, though open, unseeing. She is not aware of the noises she makes, or the filth that falls from his mouth. She feels his hands slide from her hips to her waist and up to her breasts, squeezing and flicking her nipples before he leans up and pulls her down to suck one into his mouth. She squeals, grasping the back of his head to draw him in closer and crying for more. He holds her tight and flips them over quickly, never once losing his pace and then she is pressed onto the floor with her legs spread as wide as he can possibly manage to get them, her wrists pinned above her head, and he growls into her mouth as he fucks her, deep and deliberate.

 

"You're mine, _Brunnhilde_ ," he growls and then moans, high and breathy and Hilde finds it in her to laugh, although she barely has the breath to do so. She bares down and clenches around him, and the arms that cage around her shudder. "More like the other way around," she retorts. "You are _mine_. _All mine_." He lowers his head to her neck and bites down, hard, and she knows she'll have a mark there later. She realizes she wants it to stay, so that everyone knows. "All yours," he agrees and he moves faster, his hips stuttering in their rhythm. He is close and so is she, and she raises her thighs high, wraps her ankles around his back. Pleasure is spiraling up and out of control and it is only a matter of moments before she knows she will shatter. "Cum with me, love," she whispers into his ear and he whimpers, but he does not stop and when her fingers dig into his shoulders he does cum, dragging her along with him so that they both push and pull against the other to chase the high of their shared orgasm. There is nothing else in the entire universe in that moment but him and her, and when he finally stops moving, he lies weak and lethargic on top of her.

 

Later, when he can finally move and her heart has slowed to something close to normal, he wraps her in his velvet cape and holds her tight to his chest. "I _am_ yours," he says softly, and she looks up to him with love in her eyes. "I always have been."

* * *

 

"Do you think they heard us?" Hilde toys with one of Loki's loose braids, still curled up together on the cape on the floor. The party outside is still raging, but inside it is calm and muted and the air smells like sex.

 

Loki rolls over from where he'd been resting, and props his head upon his hand. "I don't imagine they can hear anything. That music is loud enough to wake the dead." She hums contemplatively and then narrows her eyes. "That reminds me...I meant to ask you. If you've put spells on our doors, how come everyone on the ship knew we were sleeping together?" Loki frowns. "I haven't any idea, truly. It's the same cloaking spell I've been using." He thinks for a second and then makes a face. "I think..." And then he mutters the incantation under his breath, stopping short a few words before erupting into laughter.

 

"Good god, I've been saying it backwards! No wonder it didn't work." 

 

Hilde slaps her palm over her eyes and starts to laugh. "Oh come on, Lackey! You mean to tell me everyone could hear everything we were doing this entire time?!" He smiles apologetically. "Not the entire time, I'm sure...I...can't really...stop laughing, sweetheart! It's not funny!"

 

But it is funny and he is laughing too, and he pulls her against him, presses his lips to her forehead. "You seem so nonplussed by all of this," he says, and he waves his hands along his bare chest. "I was certain you'd be repulsed."

 

Hilde grins, and she strokes his face gently. "Oh no, lover, not in the slightest. Don't you know? Blue just so happens to be my very favorite color."

* * *

 

The next time he takes her, he is slow and gentle and they move together, languidly and uncaring of the time that passes. He's changed back to his usual Aesir glamour, only because he is still uncomfortable in his Jotnar skin, and though Hilde wants to protest, she holds her tongue and thanks him for allowing her to see what she had. If he is comfortable like this, pale glistening skin and bright green eyes, then she will take him anyway he is, whether his skin is blue or his body is of a woman's. She realizes she loves him either way.

 

"One day," he whispers, as he moves inside her, his mouth in the hollow of her throat and his hands stroking her body, "I'm going to take you both ways at the same time." She moans happily when his hips shift up and over, hitting spots inside her that make her see stars. She slides her hands down to the small of his back and urges him to move a little harder. "You can do that?" she breathes, and he chuckles at the query. "Sweetheart, I can do whatever you want me to." He slows his hips and slides out of her, ignoring her whine of protest, and then cradles her from behind, lifting her thigh, and sinks inside her once more. She reacts by arching against him. "Why can't we just...mmmm....why can't we do it now?" she asks, and she grasps his hands to drag to her clit. He obliges by stroking her in time with his thrusts. "Because we don't have the lubrication necessary." With a grunt, he pushes in deeper and faster, inklings of an orgasm stirring in his body. 

 

"Do you like this position?" 

 

She hums out a soft moan of a yes and turns, brings his head down and kisses him, her tongue sliding inside his mouth to taste him. She can still taste wine on his tongue but there's some of her in there too, and the thought makes her clench around him. "I _love_ it," she says, as she pulls away, but she holds his gaze while he takes her, and soon he is moving fast and hard, chasing the feeling of euphoria that is right around the corner. "I need you to cum, sweetheart," he pleads, and his fingers speed up on her clitoris, slipping about so that he touches right where they are joined as he slides in and out. It's erotic, the sounds their bodies make as they join, and so is the glint in his eyes, the rush of warm breath on her neck when he leans down to bite it. And when he moans, loud and uninhibited, she can't help but to grin because she's making him feel this good. She's brought the Prince of Asgard to his knees and he is hers. But at this moment, while he moves fast and frantic inside her, she won't deny that she is also his, and she grips his thighs behind her, pushes back against him, and cries out as another orgasm sweeps through her. He follows right after.

 

Minutes after she comes down, she turns to find him watching her, a smile on his face and she kisses him softly and sweetly this time. "Tell me a story," she says, threading her fingers through his now loose braids, effectively undoing them. He thinks for a moment, and then he starts to speak, his voice quiet and gentle and everything she loves.

 

"Once upon a time, there lived a poor man with many children..."

 

* * *

They do not leave the dining room for most of the rest of the night. Instead, they spend hours in each other's arms, telling stories and laughing and making love over and over. He does not take her from behind like she wants, but he does cast two illusions-one to fill her, one to taste her, while he is there to touch and she cums so hard that she cries, great big heaving sobs of pleasure that nearly scare him. When she comes to, she grins and begs him to do it all over again and he could never deny her anything, so he does.

 

By the time Thor and Siri open the door, long after the guests have all gone and the party is over, they find Hilde curled up in his lap, sleeping soundly while he sits in a chair, his cape wrapped about her and her hair undone and flowing across her shoulder. He raises one finger to his lips and shushes them softly, content and happy, and his brother nods only once before closing the door with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story Loki begins to tell her is "East o' the Sun, West o' the Moon" which is probably my very favorite Norwegian fairy tales. If you're one of those people who are curious about what Jotunn Loki's dick looks like (and I know you are) google "Sleipnir, Bad Dragon" and you'll get your answer. That's it. Just add some Jotnar markings and...yeah.
> 
> And to think that I rewrote this whole entire chapter twice because I was annoyed with it. Shouldn't have been such a difficult write but alas, it gave me the blues. I do so like this version of it though, so it was worth it.
> 
> The next chapter will probably not be up for about a week or more; I've got some crochet orders to churn out and other obligations. Until chapter 19, I bid you adieu! I'll be on tumblr of course, so if you miss me enough come say hello. lilithenaltum.tumblr.com


	21. xix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hilde and Loki the morning after; Lady Loki makes an appearance for a shopping trip to the marketplace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! The story is moving on along faster now and pretty soon we'll be to the end of this part; we've got only a few more chapters to go in Shake Down the Stars. The Great Umbreon Conspiracy will be wrapped up pretty soon and our friends will all be on their way to Midgard and to a new life...though nothing is ever truly that easy, is it?
> 
> Comments are my favorite thing ever, even if it's just a tiny bit of one. Let me know how you like the story, I like hearing from you guys. <3

It had been so long since she’d slept as peacefully as did the night after the gala. The dream she had was surprisingly sweet and funny, so that she woke slowly and naturally, little vignettes of a possible future with Loki swirling around her brain. She couldn’t help but smile, and she stretched out in the big bed like a warm and happy cat. She strained her ears for a while to guess at what time it was and figured it had to still be early; the mansion was as quiet as a mouse.

 

Hilde shifted onto her side to find Loki still sleeping peacefully beside her, on his belly with his head turned toward her and his mouth slightly opened. She grinned at the sight, reaching out to smooth his unruly dark hair from his forehead and he stirred just a bit, nuzzling the plush pillows before slipping back into slumber. There was something incredibly homey and peaceful in watching him sleep and so she indulged herself, sinking back into the mattress to listen to the lull of his breathing. And as she did, she relaxed until she had slipped back into to sleep once more, the warmth of Loki’s breath tickling her cheek.

 

It was a little over an hour later when she woke once more, this time to the jostling of the mattress beside her. She opened sleepy eyes and saw Loki seated at the side of the bed, in nothing more than underthings and he stretched, mid yawn as he turned to greet her with a gentle smile.

 

“Good morning, my love,” he murmured, and he bent to press a soft kiss to her lips, another to her temple, and then a last one to her forehead. She smiled as he slid his fingers underneath her neck and stroked the skin there, watching her with a mix of curiosity and love in his eyes. This was something she would have to get used to, she knew, as the intensity of the emotions on his face took her breath away. She covered it by reaching for him and he lay back down, wrapping her still nude form securely in his arms.

 

“How’d we get back to your room?” she asked, after long minutes of simply enjoying his presence. “I carried you here,” he said, matter of factly as if she should have already known that. “And nobody seemed surprised that I was carrying you from the dining room and up the stairs in nothing but my cape,” he added and Hilde chuckled.

 

“Yeah, about that…about the cape, I mean.”

 

“Mmmhm.”

 

“You need to get it cleaned. Norns know what kind of body fluids are on that thing.” Loki started to laugh, and he slid down in the bed until he could curl up underneath her arm, his head on her chest and his hands pressed against her bare belly. His breath ghosted across her breasts and made her shiver a little. “Siri said she’d have it all taken care of. She also collected the dress you borrowed and said she’d come for the jewelry later.”

 

Hilde hums and drags her hands through Loki’s hair, scratching her nails into his scalp in little patterns. He purrs like a kitten and closes his eyes, content to let her continue her ministrations for however long she wants. “Don’t stop, sweetheart,” he sighs, “I’ve got to say this is the loveliest morning I’ve had in quite some time.”

 

Hilde grins. “Even with the threat of murder over your head?”

 

“Even so. Maybe in spite of all of that,” he says. “There’s nothing at all like waking up beside the woman you love.” Hilde slid her hands from his hair to his cheek and her grin softened into a smile. “Love, huh?”

 

“Love.”

 

“You love me.”

 

“I love you. So very, _very_ much.”

 

“That’s gonna, uh be hard to get used to, Lackey,” she says, mostly serious though her tone is light. He does not attempt to allay her fears; he simply nods and holds her tighter. “It’s a scary thought, isn’t it? That someone could love you so. I’ve known you all of two months and already I’ve realized I would put your life above mine a million times over.” She shakes her head at the thought and shushes him. “Let’s just hope we don’t get to that, okay? I meant what I said last night. You gotta live for me, or I’ll kill you myself.” He laughs but it sounds a little hollow and there is a slight fear that creeps into her heart she can’t place.

 

“It’ll be fine,” she says, more for her benefit than his. But she has to be assured she will not lose him, not now, never. “We’ll get the hell off this moon in once piece and we’ll all get to Midgard and we’ll be fine.” He does not respond to that; instead he quiets and clings tightly to her, the lines in his brow pronounced in thought.

 

“Loki?”

 

He lifts his head to look at her and he reaches one hand up to trace her jaw, his fingertips feather-light and soft. “You’re right,” he finally says. “It’ll all be alright.”

 

Hilde isn’t so sure that he believes his own words.

 

* * *

 

After a light breakfast of cold milled cereal and milk, honey figs and almonds, they wash up beside the basin in his room and lay back in bed, Loki conjuring The Thief in the Forest for them to read, and she starts at the thirteenth chapter when she can’t quite remember where she’d left off. The room is warm and cozy, the feel of Loki’s heart beating as he sits behind her comforting, and yet, she still cannot shake the feeling that something terrible is going to happen. Maybe whatever Rolf and Lerik have been scheming is just a ruse for something much more sinister. The thought will not leave her, no matter how far along into the story she gets.

 

A pale hand covered hers and in an instant, the book was whisked away. “Hilde, talk to me. What troubles you? You’ve read the same paragraph four times.”

 

Hilde shakes her head to protest but he stops her, holding her chin between his fingers and staring into her eyes. She hesitates only for a moment longer and then confesses.

 

“You’re holding something back from me,” she says, and his eyes widen just a touch, the fingers at her chin pressing a little harder when she searches his eyes. “Tell me, Loki, _please_. You know you can trust me.” But he shakes his head and lies back on the headboard, his face sullen and pale. “I can’t,” he finally says. “Not right now, net yet. I…I don’t want you to be hurt or-“ She turns to face him fully and squeezes his shoulders. “I can’t know that if you don’t tell me. Something. Whatever it is, we can face it. You and I, together. Isn’t that what you said last night? It’s you and me, for better or worse.”

 

Loki clenches his hands into the comforter of the bed and opens his mouth as if to speak, but presses his lips shut, silent for so long that Hilde thinks he’s made the choice to withhold whatever ails him from her. She wants to be angry but she is only sad, that he doesn’t trust her enough with this to confide in her, but then he speaks, so quiet she has to strain to hear. It’s as if he’s afraid someone else will know.

 

“I can’t tell you everything and not right now,” he begins. “But there’s something…someone coming for me. I failed him and he is coming to collect and he will stop at nothing…nothing to get what he wants.” He’s leaving something out, she can tell, so she presses him for more. “But who is he? And what does he want, what did you-“

 

“I can’t…Hilde, not yet, I can’t! I have to make sure you’re safe. All of you. I have to make sure that...” He swallows and closes his eyes, and Hilde leans in, pulls him close. Whoever or whatever this is has him absolutely terrified. She feels helpless, but she holds him anyway, as he gathers his breath and then grants her a shaky smile.

 

“I promise you I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe,” he finally says, and Hilde gives him her best grin, something to buoy him. “You don’t have to keep me safe, lover boy. I can handle myself.” He seems to think this over for a while, and though he isn’t quite satisfied he manages to smile back, though it is heavy and tired. “I know. And I love you because of it.” He stills for a moment and then glances to his hands, then to her again, a resolve around the edges of his mouth that make Hilde feel just a bit better about this looming threat he’s talked of.

 

“I think I could do anything so long as you’re with me,” he says, and it comes out like a confession, like something he’s been holding inside for ages and ages. She leans in and kisses him, soft and gentle, letting it linger until she has to pull away to breath. “I’m here,” she responds. “I might be out of my mind, but I’m here. I love you, and I’m here.”

* * *

 

They dress close to lunch and Hilde keeps her eye on Loki, asking every so often if he’s going to be alright. She feels like a mother hen, hovering over a lone chick and after the fifth time she asks him, he bats her hands away and straightens, clasping the green and black cape over his leathers with nimble fingers. “I’m fine, Hilde,” he insists. “I’ll be fine. I simply…haven’t felt myself most of the day.”

 

“Are you sick? Want me to call Agatha?”

 

Loki rolls his eyes and sighs. “No, no, nothing like that. I just…” He waves his hand about and his cheeks color a bit. “I just haven’t had the chance to be… _her_ , you know? Sometimes, when I really want to it wears on me that I can’t-“

 

Hilde’s eyes widen and she pulls him close. “Yes you can! You know you can, with me.”

 

“Yes, but, I can’t possibly stay cooped up in this room all day and I’m not…I’m not ready for anyone to know about-“

 

“Then we’ll go out. Thor’s taking care of Rolf, yes?” Loki nods. “And you and I have nothing pressing to do until dinner, true?” He nods again. “Then come to the market with me. We’ll go shopping, you and me, and you can shift on the way there.”

 

He mulls this over a moment. “Are you sure?”

 

Hilde nods enthusiastically. “No one will question why we’re going out together after last night,” she says, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the door. “And nobody will know who you are when we get to the markets, so you’ll be fine.” Hilde can see the conflict on his face so she pulls back and stops. "But this is only if you want to," she amends. "I don't want you to feel as though you have to. You don't have to do a damned thing."

 

He smiles at that and shakes his head. "No, you're right. it'll be fine. I'll be fine. I've got you with me." And he links his fingers with hers, locking the door securely behind him. The two of them descend the stairs, Loki requesting a speeder from one of the servant boys on the way through the foyer, and no sooner had they made it to the door did they run into Elin, still in her little red dress from the night before, hair askew and eyes bloodshot red. Hilde felt a stab of panic almost immediately and pulled the girl to her.

 

"Elin, are you okay?!" she asked, in a panicky whisper. The only thing she could think were of Elin's misgivings about her older brother and she wondered if maybe she should have gone to Siri about it anyway. But then Elin started to grin and nodded her head. "I had a marvelous night, Hilde!" she whispered back, almost too loud, and she hiccupped a little, nodding to Loki as she pushed past the two of them to head to the stairs. She started to sing, something jaunty and lively, but turned at the base of the stairs and squinted. She pointed to the two of them and nodded her head, laughing as she did so. "You two were loud, ya know. LOUD. Hertha had to put a...a...what's that thing called?" Elin paused, and shrugged, then started back up the stairs again.

 

"Well, whenever you two get married, I wanna be a bridesmaid!" she squeaked, and stumbled her way toward her room, singing again as she did.

 

Hilde glanced at Loki, eyes wide and utterly confused. "The hell was that about? And why are you laughing?"

 

Her lover turned to her with tears in his eyes as he stifled his giggles. "She's _high_ , sweetheart. High off her pretty little arse. You couldn't smell it on her? My god, I wonder what she got into last night!" Hilde shook her head and decided she really didn't want to know. The follies of youth, and all that. Even still, it didn't sit right in her stomach and she told Loki as much. He raised a brow but she insisted.

"I mean, look, if this were anyone else, I wouldn't think twice about it. Kids do silly shit and she's a kid. But Elin's a quiet girl. Straight laced. I mean, she's literally the exact opposite of her mama in that regard." Loki smiled at the mention of Siri. "Mother always said Siriana had been a firecracker in her youth. I never got much more than that little quip and a smirk, but now I'm curious." Hilde thought of her first few years at the barracks and smiled. "Boy, do I have some stories. Norns know Heim's got more...I'll tell you one day. But seriously Loki, maybe it's worth a look into what happened while we were holed up in the dinning room."

 

He seemed to contemplate that and then slowly nodded. "I'll ask Hertha to look into it when we get back. You and I will be busy during dinner, if this all goes according to plan."

 

Moments later, the speeder arrived at the front of the house and the servant boy moved to hand Loki the keys, though Hilde snagged them before he could grab them. "Nuh uh, I'm driving. I can't imagine you have a clue on how to handle one of these things." Loki rolled his eyes but climbed inside the speeder and nodded his thanks to the servant, then buckled in and sat back demurely.

 

"I actually can drive one of these," he insisted. "But I'm much better with a horse, I have to admit, and at the moment, I'd rather sit back and enjoy the scenery." Hilde snorted and pulled off slowly, getting a feel of the speeder. It was a newer model than one she'd driven on Sakaar, much newer, and the glide of it was smooth as oil. She whistled as the speed built quickly and easily.

 

"They have these on Midgard?" she asked, and glanced over to find Loki holding the handle above the doorframe with white knuckles and a blanched expression. "Loki? Love, you okay?" He blinked and nodded, then offered her a terse smile, before he shook and heaved.

 

"Oh...oh no no no _no_ -HOLD ON, DAMMIT, I'm slowing down!"

* * *

After a close call-Loki managed to hold breakfast down somehow-Hilde dropped her speed to something a bit more leisurely and allowed Loki to get adjusted to the ride.

 

"Motion sickness, huh?"

 

"I don't want to talk about it."

 

Her lover sat beside her, sullen faced but just as pretty, as she'd changed as soon as the danger to vomit had passed. Her long black hair was being carefully wound about her head in two milk maid braids, mostly to keep it out the way and to keep the dark Umbreon dust from getting it dirty. She looked stunning in the green and black leathers, her cape flowing out behind her as they whisked past dunes and mines towards the marketplaces.

 

"It's good to see you again, sweetheart," Hilde offered, by way of apology, and was rewarded with a lovely smile, and then a soft kiss to the cheek. Once Loki's hair was done, she leaned back in her seat and extended her hand, grasping Hilde's free one and entwining their fingers. A quick rush of happiness shot through Hilde's heart and she grinned, bringing the long, pale hand up to her lips and kissing it lovingly. "I love you, in case you weren't aware," she added, and Loki laughed, silvery and beautiful.

 

"But I'm almost certain that I love you more," she said back, and winked, and Hilde could not stop from smiling the whole ride to town.

 

They parked the speeder beside a spice merchant, locking it with the little remote attached to the keys, and took their time strolling around vendors and sellers. Loki had her eye on some sinister looking potions and oils and Hilde listened curiously as she bartered with the booth owner over the trading point of each particular poison. Somehow, Loki managed to secure twelve vials of something called belladonna for a handful of weak whiskey that Loki whipped out of nowhere. "I stole it from the kitchens," she said simply and Hilde laughed. "You mean you stole watered down whiskey from Rolf to buy poison? Tsk tsk, princess." Loki grinned. "I like it when you call me that," she said, and bent down to kiss Hilde softly, only breaking loose when an adjacent perfume seller cleared her throat. Hilde glared at the woman and she turned her head with reddened cheeks, and pressed another kiss to Loki's lips for good measure.

 

"You know, that's one of the few things I liked  about Sakaar," Hilde said, as they rounded the corner of a jewelry booth and wandered toward the fabrics. She secretly hoped the silver and blue fabric had been restocked and looked around to see if maybe the same merchant was at market today. "Nobody cared who was kissing on whom."

 

Loki picked up a shiny bauble, gaudy and cheap, but pretty in it's own way. She sat it down and smiled charmingly to the merchant. "I agree. Besides, who has time to care who anyone is romancing when you're a sneeze away from death and chaos everyday? But to be fair, I think we were simply in her way." Hilde shrugged, grasping Loki's hand to squeeze through a particularly congested part of the booths. They meandered around the crowd and found the fabric vendor Hilde knew had the blue and silver. Her face brightened and she waited patiently as the vendor finished up a sale of bright pink chiffon to another customer. And then he turned, greeting her politely.

 

"Hello, hello, might I have a bolt for you?" Hilde nodded. "There was a silver and blue embroidered fabric on your table a few days ago...I didn't have anything to trade for it at the time-"

 

"Ah! Yes, you came along with Lady Siriana. A favorite customer of mine, I must say. I'm afraid that that was a one of a kind bolt, my dear, and that I don't have anymore. You see, it was originally part of a coronation gown of some far off queen of some sort...ancient woven and spun, too, and it's already been taken. I'm so sorry...but I might have something else you'd be interested in?"

 

Hilde tried not to show her visible disappointment, and nodded so as not to offend. "I'll give what you have today a glance, thank you." She pulled Loki along and made a show of cooing over the other fabrics, some that were equally beautiful but not quite what her heart had been set on. "I imagine it must have been quite stunning to capture your attentions, my love," Loki said softly, and she turned over a bolt of fine green silk.

 

"I'm not even...it's not that big a deal," Hilde murmured, but she appreciated the gentle squeeze of Loki's hand on her hip. "What would I have even done with fabric like that? I'm no queen." She laughed a little and pointed out something bright and yellow. "Now that's a pretty one...though I'm not sure if yellow is my color."

 

"Every color is your color," Loki said reassuringly, and she lifted the yellow bolt, reaching underneath her cape for a crystal vase. Hilde raised a brow, but didn't speak until after the transaction was completed.

 

"Let me guess...Siri's vase too?" Loki laughed. "How'd you know? Whatever gave me away?"

 

For the rest of that hour they strolled leisurely through the market, every so often trading little trinkets and bottles of cheap wine and liquor for fabrics and clothes. Hilde found a dagger she liked and Loki pulled out a gilded candelabra. The cosmetic booth was packed, women and men alike crowded around lipsticks and eyeshadows and powders; Hilde had never made much use of makeup besides her war paint and the occasional mascara when she went out some nights, but watching Loki test and gush over all the bottles and compacts made her excited as well, and she let her pick out the right color foundation as well as shimmery little trays of stuff called highlighter. And then Loki picked up a pretty blush colored lip paint, swiping the tester bottle across her wrist. "Mama had something similar," she explained. "I remember when I was a wee one and she'd put her face on...Thor and I would play at her feet but I was always curious about the lipsticks. She caught me getting into her red paints one day and instead gave me this one to play with." Loki turned Hilde's wrist up and applied the lipstick and smiled.

 

"Perfect for you, my love! Do you want to try this one?"

 

Hilde had no real use for lipsticks but she nodded and accepted it anyway, applying a little beside a mirror the vendor had set up. It made her full lips look even lovelier and she watched as Loki applied a darker, berry looking paint. "We're the two prettiest things in the market, I must say," Loki purred and Hilde laughed, turning around to head back the other way and grab something to eat for lunch. But no sooner had she cleared the pile of people beside the cosmetics did she bump into a tall, familiar body.

 

"Lady Valkyrie!"

 

It was Rolf, two guards at his side and Thor close behind him. For a moment, Hilde's mind went blank and she forgot her courtesies but she remedied it immediately. "Lord Rolf, it's a pleasure!" She curtsied politely and greeted Thor as well, catching his eye above Rolf's head. "Are you enjoying your trip to the market? My lady wife has told me how you and she and Elin all liked to frequent the booths. I don't see either of them with you however..." Hilde smiled tersely. "I...no, I'm not with Siriana or-" But Rolf cut her off to address Loki behind her, who, until then, had been silent and inconspicuous.

 

"Excuse my manners, my lady, I didn't notice you there...I'm Rolf Jirgnson, ambassador to Asgard on Umbreon. You seem awfully familiar, though perhaps I'm mistaken. Your name?" For a moment, Loki said nothing, her green eyes wide and her face drawn but she spoke as the tense moment drug on. Around them, people milled about as if nothing at all was going on.

"Aryn, my lord," Loki said demurely, and she curtsied, careful to keep her voice low and as neutral as possible.

"A friend of ours," Thor finally said, moving between Rolf and the ladies, and he wrapped an arm around Loki's shoulder. "A...ward of the crown. Her mother and mine were friends and she's under the protection of my brother and I."

"And I assume she and our Valkryie friend are...close?" HIlde pursed her lips and fought the urge to scowl, but Rolf's gaze was fixed firmly on Loki. _He knows. He recognizes Loki as the prince._ She shot a glance to Loki who kept her eyes down and at her toes. Anger at Rolf's obvious needling coursed through her and she cleared her throat to retort, but Thor cuts in before she could say something hostile. "Quite! You must understand how much friendship and sisterhood meant to the Valkryior. Aryn and the Valkyrie have made a definite impression on the other. And that reminds me, Rolf...there were a few...things I wanted to get while in the marketplace."

 

He turned to 'Aryn' and smiled brightly. "You remember, don't you my friend? We were going to go to that jewelry store Siri told me about." When 'Aryn' only nodded, stiffly, Hilde picked up the conversation, drawing Rolf's stare back to her. "Yes, and I want to grab something to eat as well. I'm famished. Will you excuse us Lord Rolf?"

 

Hilde tugged Loki closer to her and politely dismissed them both, glancing behind to find Thor giving his own excuses as he followed them toward the boutiques on the hill.

 

They were quiet for a long while, Loki's lips pressed shut and her face blank and stoic. After getting a sufficient distance away from Rolf, and obscured by the crowd, Thor pulled them both into a quiet alley close to the boutiques and Hilde's mind scrambled for something to say. But the king only gave a soft smile, his large hand clasping Loki's shoulder and he pulled her close to him.

 

"It's alright, Loki," he said in a low, gentle voice and a pair of shocked, wide green eyes stared into Thor's. "I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Siri totally gave Loki permission to snatch that crystal vase; it was a gift from a councilor and she hates the damned thing. 
> 
> The fabric Hilde was looking for is gone for a good reason. You'll see pretty soon.
> 
> Elin is, indeed, high. Not drunk. HIGH. She got into some of the good shit but not by accident and Hilde's gut is leading her in a good direction. It'll all come out in the wash.
> 
> Rolf does, indeed, know that Loki is Aryn. He's just being a prick about it. Everyone knows the Prince of Asgard can shape shift, but none of them realize he's genderfluid but Hilde (and Thor!). 
> 
> And last but not least, no one knows about Thanos but Loki and he's terrified if he tells her about it that it will put her in even greater danger than she already could be in.
> 
> I am, of course, on tumblr, gushing about Black Panther and preparing a strongly worded letter to Marvel if they harm a hair on Loki's head. Come chat. I'm lilithenaltum and I don't bite unless you want me to.


	22. xx

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor is the world's best big brother; Hilde and Loki prepare for the penultimate dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are loved and appreciated. ❤ ❤ ❤

There was a moment when absolutely everything went still and her heart stopped, stuttering forth when Loki realized just what her brother had said.

 

“I know. I…believe I’ve always known.”

 

But she shakes her head, pulling away from Thor and scooting to the far corner of the darkened alley. No, no, no…nobody was supposed to know but Hilde and Mama and-

 

“Did she tell you?” Loki rasps out, hoping with everything within her that Frigga had not betrayed her trust. _Please Mama, please, I begged you not to tell_. Thor looked utterly confused and glanced to Hilde, who watched the interaction nervously. “No…no one told me a thing. Who was supposed to tell me? Or, I suppose, who was supposed to not tell me?” Loki swallowed hard, her mouth and throat dry and she closed her eyes for a moment, her head spinning with the knowledge that her brother knew.

 

“ _Mother_. Did Mother ever-“

 

Thor shook his head vehemently and stepped closer to Loki, just a little, though his body was open and relaxed. Like calling to a scared animal, Loki thought, and nearly laughed at the thought. “Mother never said a word,” the King insisted. “I promise you that. If you asked her not to say anything, she held true to that promise to her last.” Opening her eyes once more she stared at her brother and realized he was telling her truthfully, and her shoulders relaxed just a bit.

 

“So…how do you know?” Hilde said, and she moved to stand by Loki’s side, grasping her hand behind her cape. The gesture was comforting and grounded her. “Like I said, I’ve always had an inclination. Just a feeling, really. But I would never come to you and ask; I was scared you would run from me and deny everything.” Loki finally did laugh this time, bitter and hollow, and Thor winced. “Of course I would have,” she said, her voice shaking and Thor frowned. His hands opened and closed at his side and Loki watched the action distantly. “You remember how Father reacted when I…when I told him…” She cut off and lowered her head, but Thor was in front of her instantly, a warm familiar hand around her neck, though this one was so gentle it brought tears to her eyes.

 

“And that is why I never asked. I wanted you to tell me yourself. Or, if you chose, I never needed to be told. But this changes nothing, Loki. I am still your brother and I still love you. There isn’t much you can do that would change my love for you.”

Loki raised her head and frowned, tears spilling forth over pale cheeks and she felt Hilde crowd in closer, wrap strong arms around her waist. She is tempted to shift right here, the feminine skin she wears flushed and scared. “I’m not a…I’m not a true man-“

“You are my brother,” Thor says, fiercely and strong, and there is nothing but love and acceptance in his face. “You are my brother and also, it seems, my sister. How did I get so lucky to have both, hm? _How_?” He smiles, his own eye shining wetly with tears and Loki cannot help the sob that gathers in her chest. She lets Thor pull her close and then she sinks into his strong chest, great heaving sobs of relief rolling through her.

 

Thor _knows_ , and he loves her anyway.

 

The King holds her tightly for a long while, pulling Hilde into the embrace as well and they both press soft, sweet kisses to her cheeks and forehead, a lingering one from Hilde on her lips. Thor is smiling when she finally pulls away and Loki lets a little laugh bubble from her throat. “I’m glad I didn’t put any kohl on my eyes,” she says drolly. “I’d look quite the mess, and we can’t have that.”

* * *

 

The three of them continue about the marketplace, a woman on each of Thor’s arm. Hilde had offered to give the two of them some privacy but Loki had held her hand tightly and Thor had insisted she come along. “You are also my sister, now,” Thor says softly, and Loki had laughed as Hilde blushed.

 

“I have _two_ sisters. Two! You know, I’d always wanted a sister and then I got one and she was…she wasn’t very good.”

 

Hilde snorts. “Not in the slightest. Though…if you’d been there when she grew up, you may have understood.” Thor had nodded sagely at that and he insisted that Hilde tell him more on that later.

 

They double back through the stalls and find the food vendors, nibbling on spiced meats and sweet sugared fruit. Loki guzzles a cool paper cup of honeyed wine and leans into Thor happily, daring to smooth her leathers into a clinging, flowing gown of black and green that trails about her lean legs beautifully. “I like it,” Thor comments, motioning to his sister’s gown and she beams, tilting her head to glance at her brother.

 

“Oh, do you? I could always conjure you one. You’d look ravishing in red.”

 

Thor laughs heartily, but declines the offer. “I don’t think I’d pull a dress off quite as well as you would. Or Hilde, even.” Hilde had been observing the two of them curiously, a mouthful of sugared dates in her mouth and she grinned around them. “I never pass on a compliment, especially from my king. You liked that blue I had on last night, didn’t ya?” Thor may have blushed; Loki wasn’t quite sure, only that the look on his face humored her more than she would say.

 

“You looked lovely,” the king said, and Hilde shared a glance with Loki before bursting into laughter.

 

“What’s going on? What’s the secret?” Hilde offered him a date and he snatched it with his mouth, his teeth snapping at her fingertips playfully. “Nothing at all, brother,” Loki said coyly, and she stifled the laugh that bubbled from her throat. Thor narrowed his eye, but slid his arm about Hilde’s waist, pulling her snug against him, and almost startled Loki by doing the same. “I’m never going to quite know what you two are giggling about, will I?” Hilde shook her head. “Not in a million years. That’s our little secret.”

 

The luxury shops that sat atop the Hill overlooking the marketplace glowed softly in Umbreon’s forever night sky. Loki took a deep breath of the perfumed air; she hadn’t been quite this happy and relaxed in ages, and the corners of her mouth ached from smiling.

 

 _My brother knows_ , she thought. _He knows, and he loves me anyway._

 

“Before I forget,” Thor said, “I got a response from Sif. She’s finishing up some business in Vanaheim and can meet us on Midgard within the next month.”

 

“Sif?” Hilde asked. “Your childhood friend?” Thor nodded, glancing at Loki meaningfully. “That’s the one. I’m quite looking forward to seeing her again, as I’m sure Loki is as well.” Loki gave a snort. “It’s always a pleasure to see Sif. I’m only worried she won’t take my little…prank as well as my brother did.” Thor rolled his eye and sighed. “Pretending to be Father to sit the throne for four years is a bit more than a prank.” There was a shrug from his sister and a nonchalant smile but she was nervous. Sif had been a friend growing up and the idea of disappointing her with the truth was a daunting idea, no matter how well Loki tried to pretend otherwise.

 

“Well, I’m looking forward to meeting her,” Hilde mentioned. “Everyone talks so highly of her.”

 

At that Thor beamed. “She’s fantastic. Brave, strong, intelligent, beautiful-“

 

He rambled on and on about Sif as Loki shot Hilde another glance over Thor’s shoulder. She was equal parts annoyed and amused, if only because he hadn’t heard Thor gush about Sif like this ever and because it could possibly be the beginning of something between the two. Hilde opened her mouth to ask her about it later but was distracted by an armory to their left, and broke free from the group momentarily. “I’ll be right back!” she promised, but Loki knew she’d be gone for much longer than a minute. And she was perfectly fine with that; it would give her a moment to speak to Thor alone. She nudged her brother once Hilde was out of sight and he turned to her with a slight smile still lingering on his face.

 

“Yes, brot-oh, hell. _Sister_! I’m sorry, Loki! I-“

 

Loki laughs softly and pats Thor’s shoulder. “It’s fine, I promise. Takes a little getting used to, and you’ll get it eventually. I think.” He nods at that and so Loki continues. “I was thinking…”

 

“Is that a good thing?”

 

“What do you mean-of course, it’s a good thing, why would it-“

 

“Sometimes, you get to thinking and entire civilizations crumble.”

 

There was a scoff and Loki pulled Thor along toward one of the fine jewelry stores a few doors down. “We’re going jewelry shopping?” he asked, a little confused and Loki nodded. “Not just jewelry, brother. We’re looking for a ring.” Thor hummed. “Anything in particular?”

 

Loki paused for a moment and hovered beside the door, hoping she’d have Thor’s full support on this. She had a suspicion that she probably would. She nodded and took a deep breath before speaking.

 

“I want to ask Hilde to marry me.”

 

Thor blinked silently for a moment before his brows rose sharply and then he broke into the widest grin she’d ever seen. “By the nine, Loki! I’m so happy for you!” He wrapped her in a strong hug and spun her around, so that Loki could scarcely breathe. “Get off you big oaf!” she wheezed out, but there was no malice behind the command. Instead, she made a show of straightening her gown and then offered Thor her own small smile. “No need to be happy for me just yet,” she said. “She hasn’t said yes-“

 

“Because you haven’t asked her!”

 

Loki shook her head. “She may not say yes at all! I don’t even know if she’d want to marry me and it’s probably too soon to ask.” Thor shrugged. “Why should that matter? Time is of no essence when you truly love someone. You love her, don’t you?”

 

And then Loki was speechless for a moment, staring towards the armory shop blindly as every emotion and every feeling related to Brunnhilde came to mind.

 

“Yes,” she said softly. “I love her. So very much, brother, I…I’ve never once in my life…she’s everything-“

 

Thor’s arms were around her once more, this time much gentler than before and Loki indulged the warmth that spread throughout her. “Then ask her. If you know, what does time have to do with it? If you know she is the one, ask her.”

 

Loki hesitated for only a moment more and then straightened her shoulders. Thor pushed the doors to the jewelry shop open and gestured for her to enter and she did, head high and determined. She had a ring to buy.

* * *

 

They had only an hour till dinner when the three of them left the marketplace, and so Hilde sped the entire ride back to the estate, Loki sitting in the front seat holding on to the door frame tightly and Thor spread out in the back. He leaned back and let the wind whip over him, hooting every so often when Hilde shifted and increased her speed, and laughing as she tugged the speeder around curves in the road. “Where’d you learn to drive one of these?” Thor hollered over the roar of the speeder’s engine.

 

“Sakaar, of course!” she said, beaming. She turned to her lover then and grasped Loki’s hand, smiling apologetically. “I’m sorry, love! But we’ll be late if I don’t-“

 

Loki shook her head and gave a weak smile. “It’s quite alright. I’ll…survive.”

 

Less than a mile from the house, Loki unwound her long black hair and shifted back to her male form. He’d have liked to stay as a woman for longer, but didn’t want anyone else outside of the three of them to know about his nature no matter how Thor protested. “I realize you’d probably fist fight anyone who said anything negative about me on this,” Loki said with a slight grin, “but now isn’t the time. And I’m not ready.” His brother had conceded after a moment and patted him on the shoulder. “If you ever are, just remember that you have me in your corner.”

 

“And me,” Hilde added, playfully punching him on the arm. For a moment, Loki did not know how to handle all the affection around him and he quieted, balling his hands up in his lap. It was then that he realized he still wore the black and green gown, and as Hilde pulled up to the front of the mansion, he quickly switched back to his leathers. They’d made it in record time, ten minutes to spare and the three bounded up the stairs to quickly wash and change. He separated from Thor, but motioned for Hilde to follow him to his room for a moment.

 

“Is everything in place?” Loki asked, as he slipped into his bedroom. He pulled the bags and boxes of wares they’d gotten from the market from under his cape and stacked them neatly beside the bed. In the corner of his bedroom, Hertha sat cross legged on the floor in a common servant’s tunic and pants, twirling her dagger idly between her fingers. “Everything is set. They’re all simply waiting on you.” She unfolded her legs and got up slowly, yawning as she did so.

 

“Did you ever get any sleep, Hertha?” Hilde asked, and drew the younger girl into a quick hug. Hertha smiled tiredly and shook her head. “Not a wink. But the amount of evidence I’ve gotten…well, it more than makes up for it.”

 

“And the girls…they know their roles, yes?”

 

Hertha nodded once more. “I slipped into camp about four hours past and gave them a quick rundown. Lir has the charge and she’s waiting for my signal.”

 

“Good.” Loki squeezed Hertha’s shoulder appreciatively and drew a deep breath. If everything worked out the way they’d planned, not only would they all get off Umbreon in one piece, but they’d also have the supplies and funds they needed to get to Midgard and perhaps even some for after. He thought of the uncertainty of their future and the dangers that loomed in the distanced and hoped with everything in him that their greatest threat could at least hold off until the people were settled. And then he’d take care of that on his own.

 

“I’ve got kitchen duty, so I’ll rendezvous with you in the courtyard after desert.” Hertha slipped from the room quiet and quick as if she’d never been there at all. When the door latched shut behind her, Loki sat at the bed and rolled his shoulders, trying to quell the rising panic that swelled in his chest. Two strong hands wrapped around his neck and soft lips pressed a kiss to his neck so that for a moment, he forgot about everything-no Rolf, no trade agreements, no Thanos. He pulled Hilde around from behind and plopped her bodily in his lap, holding her tightly against him.

 

“I know you won’t tell me right now,” she said, threading her fingers through his hair. “But I’m here in case you want to talk about it.” He smiled in spite of his anxiety and kissed her softly. “I know.” He sat like this for long minutes, ever cognizant of the time, knowing he needed to be dressed and down stairs for dinner soon, but he didn’t want to move just now. Instead, he thought of the ring that rested in his pocket and the woman that sat on his lap and he heard Thor’s voice in his head. I know she’s the one. I know. Something like a fire burned in him then and suddenly he lifted Hilde from his lap, startling her as she slid over onto the bed.

 

“Norns, Lackey,” she said, slightly bewildered, “if you wanted me off your lap that badly-“

 

But she trailed off when he kneeled, when he grasped her hands between his and stared up at her with wide green eyes. There were no words to really express just how much he loved her and he knew some long flowery speech would not win her over. So he simply stated the simple truth.

 

“I love you.”

 

Hilde raised a brow, but there was a smile playing on her lips. “You’ve said. I love you too.”

 

“Yes. And I…I don’t deserve you.”

 

She snorted at that. “Nope. Most don’t.” Loki would have laughed had his tummy not felt as though a million butterflies were all fighting to the death inside it.

 

“The world…the universe doesn’t deserve you, Brunnhilde. I don’t know what I’ve done in my life to even think…you could have loved anyone else but me. Anyone better-“

 

“Loki…” Her voice is gentle but worried. “What’s the matter? If you’re worried about tonight-“

 

He shook his head quickly and pressed on. Drawing all his courage to him he looked her square in the eye and plunged forward.

 

“Brunnhilde, will you marry me?”

 

There was no response for a while and Loki felt his heart stop as Hilde stared at him silently. If she said no, he knew it would shatter him, but he also knew he would love her regardless and in those few moments he braced for a rejection. Instead, she audibly inhaled and pursed her lips together thoughtfully.

 

“Right now?” she asked, and Loki blinked. That wasn’t what he was expecting at all.

 

“Well, no, not right at this moment. Unless you want to, but we can wait till-“

 

“Yes.”

 

“Yes?” There was a moment where he hadn’t been sure if he heard her right but her face split into a wide, beaming grin and she nodded.

 

“Yes. Yes I’ll marry you. But are _you_ sure about this, though? You’re sure you want someone like me to-“

“Norns yes, yes, please,” he murmured and pulled her down to kiss him, tender and desperately and full of passion and when he pulled away she was blinking away tears. “And who’s asking? ”She queried, and Loki paused for only a moment before his face shifted a little. “Me,” _she_ said, and then “and me, as well,” _he_ said, red eyes and blue skin and then he was Loki Odinson once more and Brunnhilde was nodding resolutely now. “Then marry me,” she said, and Loki kissed her again, pressing her back against his mattress and cradling her in his arms.

 

“We’re going to miss dinner,” she murmured, as his mouth suckled on the skin of her neck. “We’re already late and I haven’t changed.” He pulled back begrudgingly and sighed, but waved his hand over the both of them, changing them into something suitable for dinner with the Councilor and his wife, and offered her his hand as he stood. And then he remembered the ring.

 

“Before I forget,” he said, and he pulled the box from his pocket and opened it. “You were in the armory when I bought this. I hope it’s enough. I hope…” He shook his head to stop from rambling and tugged the ring from the velvet case, watching Hilde’s face as he slipped it on her finger.

 

“My gods,” she whispered, and she turned her hand to watch the blue and green ring sparkling in the light. “Who’d you kill to buy this?!” Loki snorted. “No one. It’s amazing what you can get on a promise when you’ve got the king of Asgard with you.” Hilde laughed and pulled him tight to her, kissing his cheek as she did. “It’s beautiful, Loki,” she said and there was a happiness in her eyes that he’d never quite seen before. He filed the moment away for later, for one day in the future when he knew he would need to relive it. For the time being, though, he had a dinner to attend and a plot to unravel and a people to save, so he extended his arm to his betrothed and bowed.

 

“Are you ready to make a fashionably late appearance then, my love?” he asked. Hilde slipped her arm in his with a faraway smile. For a moment she said nothing, but then determination hardened her eyes and she held her head high and proud.

 

“I’m ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hilde's ring is as flashy as you'd imagine anything Loki picked out would be.  
> It's right here if you wanna see: http://i64.tinypic.com/20f5oz.jpg
> 
>  
> 
> I'm on tumblr if you'd like to come chit chat with me. @lilithenaltum


	23. xxi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets are revealed and plots unravel; Loki works to save his people from the clutches of Rolf and his son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love comments and reviews! Shoot me an ask on my tumblr or drop down below and let me know what you think. ❤ ❤ ❤

"More wine?"

 

Hilde looks up to the server and blinks, shaken out of thoughts of the night ahead and the ring that she twisted about her finger. "No, no I'm fine," she says with a cursory smile, and her eyes drift once more to the few empty seats around the table. the Rolfsborn are missing, as well as Heimdall; when Rolf asks about him, Agatha and Bruce mention something about a headache but he doesn't seem convinced.  Loki catches Hilde's hand gently and squeezes. "It's alright," he says softly, so that only she can hear. "Everyone is where they should be." She grants him the barest of smiles, and straightens in her seat. He may be right, but she won't stop worrying until this whole thing is over.

 

And she can't shake the feeling that something is going to go wrong.

 

"Even Elin?" she asks, barely moving her lips as she leans in close to Loki. He pauses for a second, as if he's thinking of the most covert way of explaining the girl's absence, but Councilor Beren's wife, Ardressa, queries Siriana about the children before he can explain.

 

"Elin's made friends with a few of the girls in camp," Siri says with a soft, maternal smile. "They invited her to a little tete a tete and since we're mostly talking politics and trade agreements, I told her she could be excused for tonight. You know how young girls are, Ardressa." Ardressa smiled indulgently and dabbed a napkin to the corner of her mouth.

 

"Of course! Harla and Givren were both like your Elin; prone to favoring their friends than with mummy and daddy. It's something every young person goes through, I believe. And Arick? Such a sweet boy, if a bit daft." Siri smiles tightly at the comment. "With his sister, no doubt. You know how close those two are."

 

Ardressa hums and takes a swig of her wine, then glances to Rolf.

 

"That, of course, doesn't quite explain where young Lerik is. I believe it's high time he sat beside his father in matters of business."

 

Rolf bristled only for a second and Ardressa nor Councilor Belen seemed to notice, but Hilde did. She glanced to Loki for a moment but his attention seemed focused squarely on his dinner. "I'm sure he has his reasons for being absent," he says in his usual overly chipper cadence, but Hilde knows something is amiss. She bites back the urge to ask if those reasons have anything to do with murder and instead stuffs her mouth with more potatoes. She catches the eye of the king, who raises a brow and stares pointedly at the hand she has lifting her fork. Hilde frowns in confusion, until he nods in the opposite direction and when she still stares blankly, he gives a light sigh and lifts his left hand, wiggling his ring finger wildly.

 

She snorts and nods once, slipping her hand from her lap and sliding it just a bit along the white tablecloth. Thor grins widely and sits back in his seat pleased. He gives her a thumbs up and then focuses his attention on what Rolf is saying. There's talks of the mines and possible business ventures with some of the merchants on the Hill but Hilde isn't paying any of that attention. She's simply looking for a break in the conversation where she can excuse herself. She's got a signal to give in ten minutes and the dinner is waning.

 

"On the subject of trade agreements," Thor says suddenly, prompting the Councilor and Rolf to halt their previous conversation. "When do you think we should have some sort of contract drafted?" The two men are silent for a very long and terse moment. "Uh, I...possibly by this coming week, I'm sure." Belen glances to Rolf as if to get some sort of confirmation on this. "We're still in the process of making sure everything works out legally, my King," Rolf says smoothly. "And there are, of course, the matter of the trusts and stocks to consider since you've decided to all head to Midgard-"

 

"You have? I'd assumed you would be staying here on Umbreon until further notice." Belen glances between the two men confused and peeks around Thor to question Siri. "Did you happen to say anything about a move to Midgard, Siriana? From what we discussed at the gala last night, we'd all-and by we, I mean the trade commission, of course-had been led to believe that the Aesir refugees would remain on the moon until the promissory note agreed upon would be repaid. Granted, that would be a few centuries from now and it's possible I'm confusing-"

 

"A few centuries?" Loki asks, speaking for the first time in a while. He'd been watching the goings on with a quiet, studious look. "Where, pray tell, would we all be working for such a protracted period of time?" He probably already knows the answer to that question, as does everyone else at the table, but Hilde wants someone to say it aloud. Belen scoffs at the query. "Not you, of course, Prince Loki. Nor your brother, nor the privy council to the king."

 

Loki hums, and then shifts from terse and unyielding to decidedly bored and uninterested. "So long as that's settled. But I must ask, as I'm sure my brother and I both have some questions; who exactly decided we'd be staying?"

 

Belen shrugs and glances around at the table, looking for a way out of this conversation. "I...this is only from what I'd discussed with the ambassador of course and-"

 

"No one told me that the conditions of the agreement relied upon a...work exchange program." Thor then smiled, though it was serious and not at all amiable. "You'll have to forgive us if we're a little disturbed that we hadn't been included in the discussion on this matter." Loki nods, and waves to the waiter for more wine.

 

"There are obligations one must fulfill when one goes into a trade agreement of any sort with the commission of Umbreon and while we have done extensive and lucrative business with the throne of Asgard, well, there isn't a throne of Asgard anymore and we're no longer dealing with Odin Borson-"

 

"I realize my father may have been a favorite, but is his son not good enough, then?" Thor says quietly, and the dinner table hushes. Bruce sits back with a glass of water to lips, eyes wide and shifting about nervously. Agatha sits beside him, her hand over his and studies everyone curiously. And Siri leans forward in her seat, a look of mild panic crossing her features. Hilde knows this is all a show and that Belen had been baited into confessing the details of the agreement, but the outcome is still up in the air and Hilde twists her engagement ring for lack of anything to contribute.

 

And then she hears a yelling in the distance and everyone at the dinner table turn toward the door. "What's all that racket, Rolf?" Belen asks, wiping his brow. Rolf frowns. "I...haven't a clue. Possibly some sort of commotion with the servants, I'll handle it." He moves his chair back to stand but the yelling only gets louder and suddenly, Lerik bursts through the dining room doors, hauling a squirming, red faced Elin with him. He has her grasped by the arm and she looks utterly terrified, tears streaked down her face and her chest heaving as she cries. Siri shoots up from the table, Ardressa moving along with her, and tries to go to her daughter, but Lerik pulls out a dagger and holds it flush against Elin's throat. "Oh hell, he's lost his mind," Ardressa gasps out, and she flops back into her chair limply. Elin's crying only intensifies.

 

"Lerik, what are you doing?!" Siri cries. "Unhand your sister, this is madness!" Lerik laughs, and pulls Elin around until she pressed against his chest, one arm wrapped tightly about her waist and the other still holding the dagger to her neck. "I caught this little _darling_ snooping about Father's study. Wonder what she was looking for, hmm? Getting a child to do your dirty work, is what I'm guessing." His grip on Elin's waist tightens and she whimpers. "I'm sorry Mama! I didn't mean to...I...he told me if I didn't tell him he'd hurt me and-" The dagger presses further into Elin's skin and she breaks off with a sob. "Hush now, my sweet," Lerik whispers hotly. "You talk too much. I'll have to work that out of you, eventually."

 

At this point, Hilde is sure this isn't part of the plan and she moves, subtly, to get Elin from Lerik's grasp but Loki places one hand on her wrist under the table to stop her. She hesitates, but barely, and she meets Thor's eye across the table. He too, is shaken by the crying girl, but he nods for her to stay put. She sits back down rigidly and looks to Siri, who stands breathless and helpless on the other side of the room, too far away to do anything but glare. "Rolf," she hisses angrily, tears of her own springing to her eyes. "Do something! He's going to hurt your daughter."

 

Rolf sighs, as if he's been terribly inconvenienced and looks back to his son, gesturing for him to let Elin go free. "You won't hurt her, will you Lerik?" Lerik glares at his father but finally relents and tosses Elin toward Siri, who pulls her tight against her protectively. "It's alright, Poppet," she says, her voice shaking and angry. "It's alright." Elin wraps her whole body around her mother and wails. "I couldn't stop myself! I tried, oh, Mama I tried, but he knows!"

 

"Knows what, dear girl?" Belen asks, thoroughly shaken by the whole thing. "Why don't you tell him, Lerik?" Loki says, getting up from his seat slowly. "I think you'd do a much better job at explaining all of this than I would." Lerik nods and fiddles with his dagger, eyes wild and shifting back and forth between everyone seated. They finally settled on Siriana, and he grins. "The bitch is trying to kill my father," he declares, and Siri shakes her head, stumbling back from the table while still grasping on to Elin. "You're out of your mind!" she growls, but Rolf holds up a hand to shush her.

 

"No, no...I think he may be on to something. You haven't quite been yourself, my love."

 

Lerik pulls out a bundle of papers and throws them on the table. "That's what she'd been trying to plant on his desk," he begins. "Falsified documents that name Siriana Magnusdottir as heir apparent to all ventures and capitals owned by one Rolf Jirngson." Belen picks up the papers and glances over them quickly, shaking his head at the mismatched signatures. "I...yes, they do look falsified. The stamps are all wrong and the signatures aren't-"

 

"A falsified will doesn't equal a murder motive, Rolfson," Thor says. Lerik tilts his head and chuckles. "Not in of itself. But you see, my dear sweet baby sister couldn't tell a lie, at least not while under the influence she couldn't."

 

All of a sudden, Elin being high that morning makes a lot more sense and she glances up to Loki, but he studiously avoids her gaze. He seems entirely unbothered, amused even. Something isn't right.

 

"That explains the state she was in this morning," Loki says with a smirk. "Get her used to the grass so she's not so cautious of you later, eh, Lerik?" Lerik laughs at that and moves to stand closer to Loki. _Oh no. No, he can't be..._ "You two in cahoots with this whole sting operation, then?" Rolf drawls, and he sips a bit of his wine leisurely. Loki gives a curt bow."Sometimes the best deals are made outside of boardrooms, Rolf. You must know that." Hilde feels the pit of her stomach drop and she looks over to Bruce, who is completely dumbfounded, and Thor, who is also watching his brother in shock. This isn't right, there's no way he would...

 

 _But maybe he would_ , she thinks bitterly. She hadn't known him that long. And the stories she's heard...

 

Suddenly she is scared, enough that she stands and walks around the table to stand between Thor and Siriana. If she's got to choose a side, she'll stand on this one. She hopes, though, that there is much more to this ruse. _Please, gods, let there be_. She twists the ring on her finger once more and stares pointedly in Loki's direction.

 

"But that isn't the best part, Father," Lerik continues, and he withdrawals a vial from his pocket, tossing it on to the table. "I found this in your wife's jewelry box." Rolf leans over to pick up the vial and whistles, shooting a deadly glance in Siri's direction. "Belladonna? What in the world would you need with poison, dear wife, if not to kill someone?" He stands from the table then and walks past Belen and Thor to tower over his wife. "Tell me. How long would it take for me to die if you slipped a little of this in my coffee every morning?" Siri narrows her eyes at him and hisses. "I wouldn't know," she says. "But you would. You've been putting aqua tofana in my morning tea-" He laughs in her face then and kisses her cheek sweetly.

 

"Aqua tofana? Sweetheart, if I wanted you dead, I wouldn't need to poison you."

 

Siri shrinks back from the kiss and shudders, drawing into herself and Hilde instinctively pulls her close. Ardressa frowns, but remains silent, grasping Siri's shoulder and patting it in an attempt to comfort. "You liar," Siri whispers, turning toward Hilde and holding back tears. Whether they be of anger or betrayal, Hilde isn't sure, but her heart thuds in her chest angrily and she wants so very badly to sink one of the daggers strapped to her thigh into Rolf's throat. Agatha stirs beside her and she grasps a shocked Bruce's arm. "I...think we'll excuse ourselves," the healer mutters, and she and Bruce slip from the dining room unnoticed and quiet. Hilde's eyes shift back to Loki once more and she stares, hard, willing him to look at her. _Tell me this is all a trap, my love_ , she thinks. _Please_.

 

He seems to be completely amused by the entire interaction, listening as Lerik rambles on about how Siri had played the long con and was trying to get Rolf out the way for personal gain. But just as her unblinking eyes began to burn, he shifted a bit to the right and lifted one finger, so quickly and subtly that she almost missed it.

 

"Are you done yet, Lerik?" Loki asks, cutting the young man off and he taps his fingers on the dining room table. "We've not even gotten to the best parts." Lerik presses his lips together in a line and crosses his arms over his chest, but nods and shifts gears.

 

"The 'king' was in on the whole scheme, apparently."

 

At this, Thor clears his chair and leans across the table angrily. "You lying son of a bitch! I've done no so such-" "This is your handwriting here, on the falsified forms, yes?" Belen says, sliding the papers toward Thor cautiously. The king doesn't so much as glance down to look, his angry gaze firmly fixated on Lerik. "I've yet to sign a gods damned thing, you can believe that. If those papers contain any sort of signature belonging to myself, it was forged! I'm the King, dammit, what need would I have of forging any papers for-"

 

"But you are no king," Lerik cuts in, calmer than he was before. "Not in truth. You're a vagabond masquerading as a king, a displaced imposter. There is no throne of Asgard for you to hold claim to. So anything you supposedly owned now belongs to the state. Father has full rights to it now, as ambassador and custodian. It's right there! In the documents."

 

"What documents?" Belen asks and he shifts nervously in his chair. "If you're speaking of the original papers signed and bonded by Odin Allfather himself, those are back at city hall, safe and sound. There's no way you'd have access to those; you don't have clearance." Lerik chuckles. "No. But Prince Loki does." Loki barely reacts to this revelation and makes a show of inspecting his nails. Lerik turns back to Thor and slams his fist into the table. "You have nothing," he growls. "You are _nothing_ , not anymore." He then turns to Loki and grins. "But this man, this man here? He's a _true_ king. And he's granted me shares in this estate that no one else here will ever touch."

 

Rolf finally seems to snap out of whatever uncaring daze he has been in and stares at his son in shock. "Lerik, my boy...what are you doing? This isn't-" Lerik laughs and slaps his father on the back. "Oh come now, Father, you can't truly be surprised can you? Did you really think I'd let you grind me under your boot for much longer?" He shakes his head and points a finger at his father, sweeping his eyes across the room. "None of you will ever leave this moon, not alive. I'll have what's mine, what I've worked for. And you, Father, will be in prison where you belong. All these years of scheming and gambling and groveling because you can't be satisfied with what you'd been given! You steal from the crown, you steal from the commission, you-"

 

"I have NOT!" Rolf screams, a dagger in hand almost immediately, and Ardressa swoons at the volatility of the atmosphere. "Belen, you have to do something!" she whispers loudly, but the Councilor waves his hand away, the grip he has on his spectacles almost crushing them. "Lies, all of them, LIES! You ungrateful little shit, you scummy heathen! To think I had such faith in you, to think...I should have discarded you when I had the chance!"

 

It is now that Loki sighs dramatically and slips a stack of crisp papers from his cloak. "Look, Rolfson. We've got business to finalize and money to make, so if you'll be so kind as to stop the family histrionics, I've got your contract ready."

 

"What are you doing, brother?" Thor asks, his eye wide and disbelieving and now, Hilde knows, none of this is apart of the plan. And yet, she can't quite shake the feeling that Loki has something up his sleeve, so she doesn't protest. Instead, she watches. Loki turns and raises a brow, shrugging casually. "What does it look like?" He drags his finger along the end of the signature line of the contract and watches as Lerik hurriedly signs. "This grants Lerik partial rights to the mines, the stocks, the bonds-everything Odin bought and owned years before we were whelped. And he's right, you know. You are no king. Not anymore. So all of that, everything out there, belongs to _me_."

 

Thor stumbles back as if struck and shakes his head. "I thought..." He laughs then, bitter and sad. "Perhaps I was a fool to believe you could ever truly care for me. For anyone but yourself. But reconsider, if not for me, for our people! You'd sell them into slavery, you'd chain them to the mines for the rest of their lives just for a little bit of money?" Loki doesn't even so much as look at Thor, only shrugs in response. "What's done is done. I've made up my mind." The king sits then, heavy in his chair, and stares blankly toward the wall.

 

" _Why_ , Lerik?" Rolf asks, his hands clenched into fists beside him. "Why would you do this? Have you no sense of loyalty? To the crown, to your father?" Lerik rolls his eyes. "You're one to talk of loyalty! Tell us again how you bartered away all our money in failed attempts to increase the fortune, hair-brained ideas that even Arick tried talking  you out of. Tell everyone about the debts you owe, about how your life depends on whether you can pay it all back! They all talk about us, Father. All of them! We're nobodies here, we are a laughing stock. Nevermind the big house and the big name, we are nothing and they know it." He straightens and sets his eye on Elin. "But now...I'm going to change that. I'm going to right the wrongs and make the name of _Lerik Krynason_ one that supersedes even that of Odin Borson." He leans forward then and lowers his voice, reaching across toward his sister.

 

"And you'll stay with me, won't you Elin?"

 

Elin doesn't look in his direction but she nods, slowly at first and then faster as she starts to cry again. "Elin, what are you-"

 

"I have to, Mama," she says, resolute and resigned. "He told me he'd make sure you were left unharmed if...if I were to be his-"

 

"Are you fucking serious?" Hilde finally says, and she gapes at Lerik, completely disgusted. "All of this because someone picked on you, all of this so you can marry your little sister? You sick piece of shit!" Lerik tilts his head and searches her face, but doesn't respond to her insults and it burns in her chest. She's vaguely aware of the need to leave the dining room and get to the camps, to give Hertha the signal. Now she's sure that Loki has something else into play, and as Lerik moves away, she meets his eyes quickly. They are open and clear now, so expressive that she nearly draws in a loud breath, and she is assured, finally, that this is all a ruse.

 

_Trust me._

 

Pressing her lips shut, lest she say anything else that could derail this whole foolhardy plan, she gives the slightest of nods and then looks away, fixing her face into something suitably shocked and angry.

 

_I trust you._

 

"Look, whatever is the matter between the two of you and whatever deal you may have set, you'll have to have it notarized through myself," Belen says, weary and annoyed. "But first we must have a hearing done in order to state your case. Rolfson vs Odinson, a case to establish the validity of the claims on the mines. I suppose we also need to clear up the alleged plot to have either Rolf or Siriana disposed of." He glances up to Lerik and to Thor, slides his spectacles back on, and straightens in his seat. "You both have half an hour to collect evidence, bring witnesses, and prepare an argument to present to the courts." Belen holds up his pocket watch and is silent for a few seconds, then addresses both sides of the room.

 

"Your time starts...now." 

 

* * *

"I hope he has a good fucking reason for all this," Thor says quietly under his breath, as Loki follows Lerik from the dining room and Hilde trails behind Thor in the opposite direction. 

 

"He hasn't told me a thing," Hilde confesses. "I'm a little hurt he didn't think he could trust me with this." Thor sighs, barreling down the corridors in search of Heimdall. "I suppose it's for the same reason he didn't tell me; he was sure our reactions to his supposed revelations wouldn't be authentic if we knew beforehand." Hilde has to agree. She isn't the best actress, even in the best of situations, and something as stressful as this would have thrown her completely off kilter if she'd been informed before. Authentic reactions were their best bet at this whole ruse.

 

"How'd you know, then?" she asks Thor when they arrive down the hall to Heimdall's room. "You looked sufficiently betrayed in there, when he talked about the mines." Thor pauses and thinks. "I didn't know. Not at that exact moment, I didn't. I only knew when he finally looked me in the eye. Something in his face told me to trust him. And something in my gut did to. So I did. I'm assuming you felt the same something?"

 

She nodded. "He gave me but one look," she says. "That's all I needed. I trust him, Thor. I know maybe I shouldn't but...I do. I trust him."

 

"Whom are we trusting and why?" Heimdall greets them, as his door swings open. "If you're here to tell me about all the business with Lerik and the prince, I already know. But please, come in. The light is hurting my eyes."

 

Hilde and Thor shared a look and moved into his room, locking the door behind them. "So you really do have a headache?" she asks and Heimdall nods, wincing. "Why would I lie about having a headache, Hilde?" She rolls her eyes at that and heads to the window that overlooks the camps. There's already some commotion going on down below and she slips out of her dinner dress quickly, gathering the bundle of armor under the sill that waits for her. "I haven't a clue. Everyone is lying about everything today." The watcher snorts and sits back on the bed, taking a long drink of water. "Agatha have anything for me?" he asks Thor, and the king pulls out a small packet filled with powder. "She said it should take only a few minutes, and you'd be right as rain...are they getting worse, Heimdall?"

 

"What are?" Hilde asks, and she hastily braids her hair in one long, single plait.

 

"My headaches. They've increased since Ragnarok. I imagine that this has something to do with it. There is no bifrost-"

 

"And no Asgard," she finishes softly. "Can you still see?"

 

He nods. "My scope seems to be weakening but yes...my sight still reaches. I'm afraid it won't for much longer." He pauses and swallows the bitter powder, grimacing as he does so. "And eventually, I won't be the watcher." He smiles sadly. "Would be the first time in our history that such a thing has happened. I can't say what will happen when the reach fades." Hilde grasps his shoulder and looks to Thor, who seems stricken about the prospect of what could happen to Heimdall in the future. But she doesn't voice her own worries, and instead, snaps her armor on mindlessly, clasping the cloak behind her before she pops open the window. The night is hot and still; Hilde grabs a waiting torch and lights it, settling it into an notch beside the window panes.

 

With one last look to Thor and a nod to Heimdall, she leaps from the sill and dives down into the night.

* * *

 

 

The walk from the dining room to his bedroom seems to take much longer than it should, if only because Lerik gloats beside him obnoxiously. Loki plays along, grinning when he should, encouraging the young Rolfson's delusions of grandeur. And though he is a threat to the safetly and welfare of his people, Loki can not help but feel empathy for him. He knows what it's like to be treated as a lesser by his father, to be lied to and to be unwanted. He looks to the man beside him and wonders if anything at all could be done to save someone so far gone.

 

 _You've been down a longer, more painful road_ , he thinks to himself and there is a part of him that wants to reach out, to tell him that there are better ways of breaking free of Rolf's control. But then he remembers Lerik's declaration of intent toward little Elin and the shreds of feeling he had shrivel. He had never been that far gone to have lusted and wanted after his own flesh, especially after a girl child barely close to womanhood. The very thought disgusts him so that he must restrain himself from drawing his dagger.

 

"I don't suppose it's pertinent to the matter at hand, but I've proof that Siriana had a hand in the murder of my mother."

 

Loki shifts his eyes over to Lerik and humors him with a surprised expression. _Bunch of bullshit_. "Do tell." There is a convulted theory revolving around Lerik's mother Kryna's death centuries before, about how Siriana had appeared no more than a year after her demise and wheedled her way into Rolf's affections, securing her place as wife of the ambassador. Loki doesn't mention that Rolf hadn't been much more than a merchant back then, when the boys were young, and that it was by the grace of Siri's friendship with Frigga that Rolf had gotten his job. Instead, he pretends to listen intently, and, when they finally make it to his room, he pauses outside the door and smiles conspiratorially.

 

"I've got some of the evidence in my room, you remember what we went over, yes?"

 

Lerik nods. "And your man, the one you said had the information against Father, he's in place as well?"

 

"Of course. Everyone is where they should be. Now, I'll need you to do one thing for me; go back to the dining room and make sure there is no way either Siriana nor your father can persuade Belen to grant them any kind of favors. I know the lady Belen is in Siri's pocket already and though his star is waning, your father still has considerable influence over the committee." Lerik nods and swoops past Loki back to the dining room, leaving the prince alone outside his door.

 

He takes only a moment to pretend to go to his room before he slips down the corridor and into an empty linen closet. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath and imagines the point of materialization, then teleports out the house and across town to the city hall.

 

He lands on the marble floor of the quiet, closed offices with a thud and lies still for a moment, trying to shake the feeling of nausea that bubbles up in his belly. Teleporting this far always makes him ill, but he knows that if he doesn't move too quickly, it will pass. _It doesn't help that you're overtaxing your seidr, Odinson_ , he thinks but he hasn't the time to dwell on this. Instead, he rolls over and stands, brushing his leathers off, and waits.

 

"You're late, Veelan" he calls out, when he hears footsteps approaching. A figure clears the shadows of the city hall and a deep chuckle rises from his chest.

 

"Only as late as you are, my Prince. How much longer do we have until we're needed?"

 

Loki tugs a watch out from the air and checks it. "Approximately twenty-four minutes. Which is plenty of time to gather what we need, yes?" The man steps into the dim light and gives a feral grin, one that sends chills down Loki's spine. He's suddenly very glad that Veelan is on his side of the issue.

 

"We could do it in ten minutes, truthfully, but I like to take my time when it's of the most import. I've got nothing but time tonight."

 

Loki raises a brow and shrugs, grounding himself as his accomplice sidles up next to him. "You've done this before, I assume."

 

"Raid an empty mineshaft? I do it on the regular."

 

The sarcasm in his voice makes Loki laugh in spite of everything and he wraps an arm about strong, wide shoulders. "Hold on tight, Veelan. It's a wee bit bumpy when you're this far out." The older man chuckles, but settles in beside him and waits with bated breath. Loki closes his eyes once more and focuses hard, and with a flash of golden light, they disappear from the hall and into the ether.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that, my friends, is part one of the The Great Umbreon Conspiracy. Part two will be up shortly, concluding this section of the plot and easing into the beginning of the ending of this story! We're almost to a royal wedding, as well, so hang tight.
> 
> I'm on tumblr | lilithenaltum  
> And I take coffees, too. ko-fi.com/lilithenaltum  
> Come say hi! ❤


	24. xxii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conspiracies all come to a head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may be the longest chapter of anything I've ever written. It was honestly a blast to type up.
> 
>  
> 
> As always, comments and love and reblogs and notes are all welcomed and cherished and appreciated! <3

Outside the estate, it is quiet. Hilde uses the dark to her advantage and slips around the towering spires of the grand mansion until she comes across a gated entrance that leads to the courtyard. It's unlocked, as she'd expected, and she makes the minimal amount of noise in opening it. There is no light in the courtyard and the pavilion over it blocks the little bit of moon that shines through, so she takes a moment to allow her eyes to slowly adjust, and then she starts forward slow, listening for any footsteps or breaths. For a few minutes, there isn't a peep, but then she hears the slightest padding of feet and it is a few more seconds before she feels a small hand light on her shoulder.

 

"Mistress," Hertha says, her voice low enough that anyone above the courtyard or in the corners will struggle to hear. Hilde slides a hand up to cover Hertha's in relief. "We're still on time," she says, and with a snap of her fingers, Hertha summons a soft flame of light. Her lips curl into a smile as she moves her hand away from the little flame, allowing it to hover in the air.

 

"Every time you do something like that it throws me for a loop," Hilde confesses, and Hertha smothers a laugh. "That's what Lir says. You should see her face when I braid her hair without hands." Hertha steps back and shucks off the cape she wears, pulling out Hilde's Dragonfang and several daggers, blasters, and blades. "For the girls?" Hilde asks. She's impressed at how much artillery they have on hand, and kneels to pick up one of the blasters.

 

Hertha nods, then swiftly begin to undress from her serving clothes. There's a bundle at her feet and she bends in her underclothes to slip them on. "Some of them, yes. Its all I could scavenge from the armory without drawing suspicion. I actually had to scrub pans tonight, so I couldn't take too many bathroom breaks." Hilde snickers when the girl makes a face and slides her sword into it's scabbard, the weight of it comforting and familiar. She is still nervous about this entire thing but having her blade with her settles her nerves a little bit. Hertha continues to talk, in the same hushed voice as before. "My last trip coincided with Lerik dragging the Rolfsdottir through the house, and everyone was out of sorts about the racket so I managed to get free and get the last few blades. I'm guessing his Highness didn't tell you about that part of the plan, huh?"

 

Hilde shook her head. "Not a peep. I'm curious to know what all you know that I don't." Hertha gives her a grin and shrugs. "I'll say likewise. I'm almost certain there's parts of this whole thing you know that I don't." She ties a wide swath of fabric about her middle and slips several of the blades inside, then shakes out the cloak and covers her head once more. "But I trust him. I trust his judgement. Whatever he has plotted will all work out. We simply must do our part."

 

Hilde nods and in a wink, the little flame of light is extinguished, leaving the two in the dark once more. "One more thing," Hertha whispers. "Didn't want anyone possibly seeing this. Hold your hand out for me?" Hilde obeys and feels something heavy and cool placed in her palm. It's on the tip of her tongue to ask right then what this is, but Hertha is already moving toward the gate and so Hilde follows, silent once more, until they out of the courtyard and meters away from the façade of the house.

 

They pause against the giant cliff of rock that flanks the estate and Hertha summons her light again, this one green and dim, just enough so that Hilde can see what she holds in her hand. Her voice is still quiet, and underneath is a current of anticipation. It's contagious, and Hilde finds that the longer the girl talks, the less nervous she feels.

 

"The charm is imbued with a simple invisibility spell. You slip it on, you disappear. While I'm fairly certain I can manage to turn myself invisible, I'm not as confident doing it to others. So I enlisted the help of Prince Loki and he handed me this."

 

Hilde nods and listens as Hertha fills her in on the details of the plan she'd been privy to. They're close to the outskirts of the camp now, still flanked in darkness, but they wait a few more moments to get a feel of the atmosphere. It's tense and volatile and for the first time that night, Hilde is sure the incoming chaos will work to their advantage.

 

* * *

Loki and Veelan land meters away from the mines, a tangled, shimmering mess of limbs and panting breath. For a moment, the entire world around him shifts upside down and then flips, making Loki kneel over and hurl up the little dinner he'd managed to scarf down. Veelan is silent, uncharacteristically. In the centuries that Loki's know the man, he'd expected him to have some snarky comment on his tongue, but instead, he feels two big hands tugging his hair back and pressed warm and comforting on his shoulders. For a moment, he remembers sneaking out of the estate when Thor and Father wasn't looking, a tavern and too much to drink, then later, snuggling up under the rafters of the attic of Veelan's mother's house naked and sated.

 

The memory calms him and he swallows heavily, catching his breath while sweat beads his brow.

 

"It's getting to you, innit?" Veelan says quietly, and he offers Loki a handkerchief, one that Loki takes appreciatively. "You'd think it wouldn't, considering," Loki remarks and attempts to chuckle, but his head is still spinning, so instead he leans against an outcrop of rock and waits. In the interim, as his eyes are closed, he listens for more footsteps, these quick and urgent and he's relieved to know that the boy hadn't gone back on his word in some misguided familial attempt at salvaging what little remained of the Rolfson reputation.

 

"Arick!" he calls, swallowing once more and daring to open his eyes. They spinning has stopped and the flashes of light have calmed enough so that he can see without wanting to vomit again, so he gets up and steadies himself, glancing to Veelan who watches him curiously. "Good of you to make it." The younger Rolfson clears the mouth of the mineshaft, a knapsack on his shoulder and a torch in hand, and watches Loki quietly.

 

"Are you alright, your Highness?" he asks, nodding respectfully to Veelan. "Sir Veelan." Loki waves the boys worries away and chuckles.

 

" _Sir_? Veelan, you're getting more dramatic by the day."

 

Veelan grins. "You're one to talk," he comments, and he tugs a lock of Loki's hair affectionately. "Besides, _Sir_ is a bit more apt, yes? I'm nobody's Lord, and I'm definitely no prince." Loki thinks to argue that point, about the Lord thing anyway, but he decides to leave it alone. They've got other things to do besides worry about Veelan's titles, accurate or no.

 

"Yes, well, anything less than scoundrel doesn't quite suit you," he retorts and he thinks he hears Veelan snort out a laugh but it's so low that it could simply be the wind. Instead, he brushes his leathers off and grasps the torch that Arick holds waiting. "Not lit, as you'd asked," the boy says. Loki snaps his fingers and the torch lights in a soft green glow, drawing a gasp from Arick. "That never quite gets old," he says by way of explanation and Veelan shakes his head at the boy's amusement of something so simple. "Tis a parlor trick, Rolfson," the man says though not unkindly and he claps Arick on the back. Loki sighs and moves around them, heading toward the mineshaft.

 

Arick and Veelan follow him dutifully, slipping past collapsed beams and caved in boulders, the green glow of the torch lighting the way. For a while, no one says a word, using the breath they have saved to step over debris and crawl between tight spots. And then, as they hit a fork in the pathway, Arick finally speaks. "I'm curious...what exactly are we here for? These mines have been closed for years." Loki shoots Veelan and look and wipes his brow, too hot to really articulate the exact reason. The prince keeps silent while his friend picks up the slack. "Rocks, Rolfson." Arick frowns, and he draws a few bottles of water from the knapsack he carries. He hands one to both of the men and leans against the wall to drink.

 

"There's nothing here _but_ rocks. All the moonphrite's been mined out. They closed this shaft when I was a child."

 

Loki nods. "Exactly. And yet, your father seems to think it's still bleeding 'phrite like an opened wound." He takes a long drag of water and closes his eyes, the heat of the mineshaft taking it's toll on him. For a minute, he thinks of turning back, but he clears his throat and perseveres. "If I'm not seeing things, there's fresh tracks here along the left tunnel." He swoops the torch down and squints, walking along a ways until he sees the track marks of mine carts meters away. He turns to the men with a grin and gestures for them to come look. "Out that way, a few miles at least, is the back exit. And though the mine looks to be closed, it's been used, and recently." For a while Arick is silent, and then his face twists into something like a laugh. It's bitter and angry.

 

"Son of a bitch," he grumbles, and he rubs his eyes. Loki feels waves of betrayl and hurt from the boy and sympathy bubbles in his chest. "I'm sorry, Arick," he says, and slips past him, further into the shaft. He'll let Arick have a moment to himself, to come to terms with just how rotten his father is, but time is ticking away and he still needs proof of Rolf's duplicity. He jerks his head toward the first pockets of rock and Veelan follows, glancing back at Arick with a sigh.

 

"Poor kid."

 

Loki says nothing. There isn't much he thinks he _can_ say. And he knows, though Veelan hadn't said anything, that he's not only talking about Arick either. But it's not the time to talk about that and he's not entirely sure if he really wants to at all. Loki tugs his pocket watch from the air to squint at the time, and then he starts to collect the dusty rock from the piles on the floor.

* * *

 

Outside the Aesir camp, Hilde and Hertha rush forward on stealthy feet, the Dragonfang in hand and the invisibility charm in her breastplate. In the middle of the camp, more than half of the refugees assemble and protest loudly against the extra security; there are cries of food rations and restrictions on what little freedoms they've had in the week they've been on Umbreon. Throngs of people struggle to the gates of the camp that is surrounded by what looks to be hundreds of heavily armed guards, many of them already violently scuffling with angry and terrified Asgardians. In the middle of the unrest, a tall, broad shoulder woman stands, her long blonde braid swinging behind her as she stalks the makeshift barricade of guards, her glare focused on the people shuffling about in front of her.

 

"Anyone who pushes past this barrier gets a few thousand jolts of electricity, no questions asked!" she barks out, and as if to punctuate her point, she grabs one of the men and callously pushes the sizzling prong of the blaster into his neck, electrocuting him before he even has time to scream. Horrified, the refugees all stumble backward, though a few dare to stand defiantly before the guards and their super, foremost among them young Nonna. Hilde can feel her heart stutter in fear and adrenaline as the woman steps toward the young girl threateningly, but after several long seconds of a silent stand off, Nonna steps back and slips into the crowd. Hilde lets out a breath and slows her approach to the side of the camp.

 

So far, they are still ensconced in shadow but there are less than fifty meters before the cover runs out. Hilde pulls the charm from her breastplate as she slows to a stop and rubs her fingers across it. It's an unassuming piece of silver jewelry Loki had borrowed from Siriana, a bracelet she can easily slip about her wrist if the need arises by means of a stretchy black cord. She shifts her sword under her arm and wiggles her fingers through the narrow elastic. She's surprised to find that it warms as it touches her pulse, and when she has it securely about her wrist, she glances down, expecting to see it glowing or shimmering. But it's simply the same old charm bracelet. Nothing looks out the ordinary, at least not to her, so she whispers to get Hertha's attention and is relieved to find her eyes searching. The charm is working. With a pleased nod of Hertha's head and a thumbs up, the two women split; Hertha rounds the outside perimeter of the camp to slip inside the back way while Hilde will slip in through the west end.

 

Slowly, so as not to kick up dust or make any noise by traversing across the rocky terrain, Hilde sidles directly up to one of the guards and lets out a soft puff of air, just enough to stir wind. He moves to turn around, and Hilde stares him directly in his cloth covered face. "What is it Gryssz?" the guard to his right asks.  "Thought I felt something behind me," he grumbles. Hilde grins, proud that her first attempt at magic has succeeded. There is no time to gloat, however, so she walks right through the gap he makes in the line. Gryssz tenses for a long moment, searching into the darkness for some phantom presence. Finding no one behind him, he shrugs, and turns back forward, blaster at the ready and his mind no doubt on alert. 

 

Skimming the line of guards and slipping between tents and crowds of people, Hilde quickly makes her way down the broad middle street of the camp, searching for Hertha's tent where she finds most of the Valkryior trainees gathered. They all are dressed in the same sleeveless tunics and leggings, their hair pulled back into Dutch braids and a long scrap of bright blue fabric streaming from their shoulders. Wraps cover their arms and hands in place of bracers, and two leather belts sling about their waists, no doubt to hold the weapons that Hertha had smuggled in her tent. Hilde waits until she is paces away from Ilsa before sliding the bracelet off and she shimmers into view, startling the girl who cuts of her shriek of shock with a clasp of her hand. "Mistress!" she whispers loudly, and practically leaps into Hilde's arms, prompting the others to turn and embrace her as well. It has been days since she saw them and she is overcome by how much she'd missed them.

 

"I'm feeling the new outfits," she says with a wry grin and Alfhilde straightens her shoulders proudly. "You'd have Mama to thank for that," Lir says, and she pulls Hilde tight against her. "No sooner did Hertha let us in on plan did she insist we'd need some sort of uniform." Hilde raises a brow in surprise. "Who'd have thought?" she muses quietly and Lir shrugs. "Indeed. She's in the tent right now, actually, getting dressed." "For what?" Lir smiles brightly, all teeth and mischief. "For the riots, of course. She's got to look the part as well." No sooner had Lir spoken did Vada emerge from Hertha's tent, clothed in the same uniform as her daughter and wearing a determined look. When she catches Hilde's eye, she smiles.

 

"Mistress Valkyrie," she greeted, and she inclines her head just slightly. "Lady Vada," Hilde responds and she gestures toward the outfit. "When Lir said you were joining them in the riots I-"

 

"Was surprised?" She shrugs and glances down. "So was I, actually. On occasion, I speak before I think and act out of turn. I suppose this time it was for the better. Or, at least I hope. We'll see."

 

Hilde snorts. "So you volunteered to join the ranks on a whim?"

 

Vada shakes her head, and turns to look out past the rows of tents toward the growing mob of Aesir that protested toward the front of the gates. She was silent for a moment, and then her gaze settled on Lir, who stood huddled with the other girls, nervous but excited to act. "I joined because she needed me," she says stoutly and she fiddles with the hem of her tunic. "I wasn't about to let my daughter jump headfirst into this and standby idly. Not when I can do something. Not when I can help her. She'll need someone to watch her flank, and her...her girlfriend is occupied, so." She cuts off and turns to Hilde with a soft smile. "I'm still young, yet, Lady Valkyrie," she comments and for a moment, Hilde can see how young Vada really is. She can't be much older than Loki, she surmises. "And besides, I'd always wanted to be a Valkyrie."

 

There is a brief lull in the conversation and Hilde waits on Hertha's signal-unrest in the back lines of guards that surround the camp. It is in those few minutes that Hilde arranges the girls into pairs, sending them off toward the assembly in specific points and instructing them on what to do. "Strike," she says, and they all stare at her intently, anticipation palpable in the little groups. "You attack and you attack with all you have. I know I haven't had a lot of time with you. I know you may be scared of failing or getting hurt or...well, don't think about that. If you get hurt you can always heal. Get up and keep striking! Don't give in, don't quit. No one will truly expect you to be a threat and you use that to your advantage."

 

The girls are brave, she knows, braver than she'd been even at their age though she's worried now that she hadn't trained them well enough. But Lir has Vada with her and Nonna has Alfhilde and they all work well together, they all watch each other's backs. Hilde catches Vada eye as she and her daughter head for the middle of the crowd, one of the two teams sent to rally the Aesir into action. Vada nods, her arm around Lir, and then they head into the assembly, in step with one another.

 

Maybe, she thinks, there will be some change about after all.

 

Her musing is broken by a commotion on the far end of the camp and then she sees a rush of guards storming down the main avenue. For a moment, everyone holds their breath but Hilde searches the perimeter and finds her girls in their assigned spots, and in the blink of an eye they act. Guards are shoved out of line and attacked, and the four inside the assembly begin to rally the people around them, pulling swords and daggers and blasters from under their tunics, shoving them into the hands of the panicking crowd. It's almost as if a light switch has gone off. Suddenly, the throngs of scared and shaking masses have a purpose and they advance on the thickest pack of guardsmen.

 

A thrill shoots through Hilde and she lets out a yell, taking off toward the perimeter to help Jorna and Ilsa. They fight back the guards almost effortlessly and she's almost laughing now, when she catches sight of the leader of them all, tall and screaming and terrible while she fights back Aesir like flies. Hilde nearly runs toward the fray, wincing when one of the men receive a blow, no doubt fatal, to the head, but a pair of rocky hands lift the woman like a doll and hurl her toward the back of the fight, where she's promptly taken down by several other women.

 

"You need any help over that way, yeah?" she hears Korg yell and she does laugh now, but she shakes her head. "I've got it this end, Korg! Go help 'em out in the front!" He gives a salute and then he (and Miek) carve a path through the crowd, working through the guards like nothing.

 

And in the heat of the battle, Brunnhilde triumphs.

* * *

It's a long walk from the mines to the estate. Fortunately for the three of them, Arick had thought to bring a speeder, saving Loki the trouble of either being late or having to teleport once more. They've got all they need to make their case; Loki's other evidence rests securely in his endless pockets and Veelan has a sack full of rock waiting to be examined. If Agatha and Bruce are on time, then everything will work out just fine. They simply have to get through this mock trial.

 

"You didn't tell me what was going on at the camp, Prince Loki!" Arick yells over the wind, and he points to the brawl below the ridge they speed over. Veelan lets out a laugh and leans over to watch. "I didn't think they had it in them, truly!" he hollers. "You know how soft the Aesir had gotten!" Loki shakes his head but he's proud and he tells Arick to lower the speeder down to the fighting.

 

"You don't mean to join them, do you, Loki?" Veelan asks, but Loki shakes his head. "There's barely anything left to join," he points out. Instead, he guides Arick to the front of the camp, where a panting and sweating Brunnhile stands scanning the crowd of thousands. The people are chanting as they drag tied up guards gathered in the center of the camp. "For Asgard!" they holler, and the patriotism is contagious so that he yells back, raising his fist when he catches Hilde's eye. She jogs to him and pulls him down in the speeder, tugging her mouth to his.

 

"I missed you too!" he says and she socks him in the jaw playfully.

 

"I haven't even been gone that long, you doof. Are we headed back to the viper's nest?" she asks, and he helps haul her up into the speeder. 

 

"Right back into the fray, my love," Loki responds.

 

She settles in the backseat beside him and glances towards the passenger seat. "Who's..." Loki kicks the back of the seat and Veelan turns around, greeting her with a nod of the head. "Veelan, my lady," he greets and she tilts her head.

 

"Veelan?"

 

"Sir Veelan, depending on whom you ask," he says with a cheeky grin. " _Lord_ Veelan, if I were proper, but I haven't been proper in such a long, long time-"

 

"You're being dramatic again, Vee," Loki comments wryly as Arick swoops past the camps and towards the estate.

 

"Ah, but don't pretend like it isn't endearing, my prince," he quips, waggling ginger brows lasciviously. Hilde glances between the two and Loki wonders if she feels as left out as he had when she'd spent hours whispering and laughing with Siri. He grasps her hand and presses a kiss to the back of it, mindful of the ring she wears and kissing it as well. She snorts and pulls her hand away. "I meant your last name," Hilde finally says and Veelan turns about in his seat all the way, glancing at Loki first and then back to Hilde. "Should I..." Loki shrugs. "I don't suppose it could hurt, not at this stage." Hilde makes a face and opens her mouth to ask what the mystery is about but Veelan cuts her off.

 

"Veelan Myrnason, colloquially," he says, and then sighs, his face carefully blank. "Veelan Vilison, in actuality."

 

It takes a moment for Hilde to connect the dots and when she does, her eyes widen a bit.

 

"Oh....ohhhhh! Well I'll be fucked. You're a cousin, then." Veelan grins again and offers her his hand, and she shakes it firmly. "I'm a _bastard_ cousin, which is why I don't carry my father's name as my own-"

 

"He could, if he so chose," Loki says with an eye roll. "He's simply being difficult. The Allfather offered to legitimize him years ago and he-"

 

"Declined because I don't need to carry the mantle of a man who refused to know me." His grin is sharper and brittle and so Loki pulls back, glancing at his cousin apologetically. For a moment, no one says a thing but Hilde clears her throat, breaking the tension. "It's a pleasure, Sir Veelan," she says colloquially, and Veelan's shoulders relax noticeably, the grin softening into something softer and less vicious. He eyes that tattoo that peaks out of her arm guards.

 

"And you're the so-called last Valkyrie."

 

"Something like that," she says and Veelan nods.

 

"Something like that _indeed_. You tell the prince here that you're in like company?"

 

Hilde narrows her eyes, prompting Loki to nudge her gently. "In like company? You mean the recruits?"

 

At that, his cousin laughs and Loki is totally lost, but Hilde simply shakes her head and clasps her hands in front of her. "Haven't said a word. Ain't my word to say, really. If she wants them to know-"

 

"Who? Who wants us...who's us?" He stares at her hard, hoping she'll turn to him and enlighten him but she makes a show of ignoring his glare and stares straight ahead. It's while considering the option of tickling her to get her attention does he notice the cut on her neck, the bruise on her jaw, and how dirty she is. He reaches out and touches the cut lightly and she hisses, but settles as warming seidr slowly begins to heal her.

 

It's too slow, he knows, but he ignores that, or the way the tug of magic makes him feel drained and dizzy. Instead, he simply allows the cut to knit and heal, then moves up to the bruise, but she grabs his hand to stop him.

 

"Rest," she whispers, just so that he can hear and one look at the flex of the muscles in her cheek lets him know she knows. He vaguely remembers telling her how spent he'd been after maintaining the Odin disguise, and wonders if she's put two and two together already.

 

"Yes, my love," he murmurs, and he smiles when she kisses his fingertips. "You can be so sweet sometimes," he says softly, leaning into her and closing her eyes for a long second. He feels her laugh more than he can hear her and the motion warms him, though he is truly tired and wants nothing more than a bed and some wine.

 

"Nothing sweet about me," she protests, but there is a gentle smile on her lips and he knows she's only jesting.

 

So wrapped up in Hilde's warmth is he that he doesn't notice Veelan still staring in their direction, a soft look his face, his lips turned up just a bit. "And that's something I never thought I'd see," he says, quiet and introspective. Loki can not argue with the man, though he wishes he could be offended if only for appearances' sake.

 

"Neither did I, my friend," he agrees. "Neither did I." 

* * *

 

The house is eerily quiet when they arrive, only a minute to spare. Loki goes in by himself and Hilde waits outside with Veelan and Arick, who fiddles with his fingers nervously.

 

"So what do you do here on Umbreon?"

 

Veelan looks up and the face he makes tells her more than any words can. It's unsavory, whatever it is.

 

"A little bit of it all. I'm a...jack of all trades," he answers, and he glances toward Arick, nodding his head toward a quieter corner of the hall outside the dining room so they can chat without the boy hearing them. "You don't need to tell me everything," Hilde says, and she withdraws her Dragonfang from it's sheath, grimacing a bit at how dirty it is. As she does, she eyes Veelan from under her lashes and watches as he watches her inspect her blade.

 

She won't say it's a threat, but, well...it's a threat. He seems to pick up what she's hinting at and lets out a cautious sigh.

 

"I uh...you don't have to worry about-"

 

Hilde grins. "I wasn't. Promise."

 

They're silent for a bit and Hilde can hear the ticking of the clock from down the hall. Arick clears his throat and leans against the wall, long dark hair falling into his face. Veelan is watching her, a curious mix of scared and amused and, if she's not wrong, aroused. The thought makes her grin harder. "I wasn't threatening you, if that's what you thought," she finally says, and he tilts his head, silent though he is definitely listening. "It was simply a...suggestion."

 

"Of possible things to come," he adds, and she nods.

 

"Of possible things to come, Sir Veelan. That man in there? I love him. I would kick his ass clear across the other side of this moon if he so much as thought about betraying me, but I love him. And he loves me. He's loyal to Asgard, though he will definitely tell you otherwise." Veelan laughs at that and relaxes a bit. "I can tell you truthfully that Loki is loyal to no one but himself. And perhaps he's discovered that Asgard was a part of him no matter his heritage."

 

"How long have you known your cousin?"

 

"Since he was a child, a few years before the princes first came to Umbreon. Of course I knew he was adopted but we were all sworn to secrecy, so I never let the knowledge loose. My mother kept in touch with her brother who worked in the palace under Odin Allfather. He's the reason that the man ever knew I existed. Otherwise, I'd have been just another fatherless boy."

 

Hilde raises a brow to that. "From what little I knew of the royals, Vili never struck me as the philandering type." Veelan shrugged. "I don't know what he was like, other than that he didn't care enough to acknowledge my existence. It's of no matter, however. The only thing that counts is that my uncle did what he could to keep a roof over mine and my mother's head till she died. And after, even. And my cousins were always friendly, so there was that."

 

Hilde hums and resheaths her sword. "Loki was a little more friendly, eh?" Veelan's face melts into something resembling tenderness and Brunnhilde knows now that there is no way this man would ever betray her beloved. "After a time, yes. I...fought it for a while. We're _cousins_. And then, of course, I remembered that we weren't true blood relations and said to hell with it. He wore me down, really, is what he did. Sneaky, seductive little shit." Hilde laughs and she notices the crinkles in Veelan's eyes, at how blue they really are. He's handsome, in a roughshod vagabond way.

 

"I loved him. I still do. But I always knew he was meant for something more than a kitchen maid's son. So I let him go."

 

"You broke his heart?"

 

Veelan shakes his head, sadly. "He broke mine. I didn't beg him, when his attentions strayed. He thought what we had was casual and so I...I let him go. But he deserved better, and he still does." He steps forward then, closing the space between them and she leans her head back to stare at him, tall and strong and lean and handsome. She thinks, just maybe, that if she were inclined to share right now, she'd ask to have a taste of Veelan Myrnason.

 

"Better meaning...me?" she asks, and he smiles, genuine and kind and for a moment she wonders how in the world someone so considerate could be so unsavory. She doesn't tell him she's no better than he is, that a kitchen maid's son is on the same level as a pickpocket and orphan.

 

"He's marrying a Valkyrie, innit he?" he says, and then he laughs, brushing his fingers along her still bruised jawline. "That's about as good as one can get, if you ask me." His hand falls and he picks up her left hand tapping a dirty calloused thumb on the brilliant green and blue ring she wears. "When's the wedding?"

 

Before Hilde can respond, the door down the hall opens and Arick squeaks as he's pulled unceremoniously into the dining room. Lerik's dark figure stands in the threshold and he looks on the verge of an actual breakdown, so Hilde quickly goes to the door, frowning as she catches sight of the wild, unhinged man in front of her. Behind her, Veelan looms silently, hands at the ready for whatever weapons he holds on his person. Hilde guesses he's a blaster kind of guy; he looks the type.

 

"You're needed, Valkyrie," Lerik hisses, and he moves his hand to grab her arm, but Hilde maneuvers out of the way expertly, resisting the urge to throw her foot back and get a shot to his Achilles tendon. They've got bigger fish to fry than petty physical attacks, so she only shoots him the most venomous glare she can and she moves to stand beside Siriana. She is quiet, still, but stronger and her bright eyes shoot daggers at Rolf. Veelan remains outside for the time being, glaring down the door until it's slammed in his face.

 

"I'm guessing you jumped in on all the commotion outside, Brunnhilde," Rolf says, and Hilde makes a face, glancing to Thor who looks to her apologetically. "Beren needed your name for legal purposes," the king says and Hilde only rolls her eyes and sighs. Eventually, she realized, everyone would know her name anyway. And maybe it was time to let go of the power she'd placed on it. Hilde declines to answer, but she straightens her back and holds her head higher, waiting for Beren to begin speaking. 

 

"So according to the testimony between both Rolf and Siriana, someone is definitely trying to kill someone, but both of them are convinced that it's one or the other." Beren straightens the spectacles on his face and sighs. "I've called you here, Lady Brunnhilde, because you've been implicated in the supposed plot to kill Rolf Jirngson via poisoning." Hilde raises a brow. 

 

"Exactly how so, Councilor?" she asks, and she levels a steady gaze on the man. Beren ignores it. "Well, that's what I've been trying to get out of Rolf but-"

 

"But nothing," Rolf hisses. "She's in on the plot, I know she is. You see, several days past, my wife and daughter invited the Valkyrie into her rooms for a little...girl talk, I assumed. Half an hour went by before they sent one of the servant girls out into the hall and over to Loki's room, where he merely pretended to ravage the girl, but I know better! She had a bundle of cloth with her and no doubt got the poison from him. We've found vials and vials of belladonna in his room."

 

Loki looks entirely unperturbed by these revelations, his only reaction a bored sigh. "If you're quite done with all that nonsense, Rolf, I'd like to present my evidence." He moves around the table and whistled sharply. The door opened and both Arick and Veelan walked in, the latter carrying a large sack and the former slipping into the far corner silently. "As you all know, my father, Odin Borson, purchased a large number of stocks and interests in the burgeoning mines on Umbreon. This was done some four thousand years ago, long before either myself or my brother were ever born. At the time, all of his interests save ten mines were in his name and his only. He wasn't married, according to the documents in store at city hall, and the remaining mines belonged to Hela Odinsdottir, his only child." He takes a swig of the wine still on the table and continues. "Of course, I knew nothing of this until recently. Even the bit about having a sister. Alas, Father had Hela disinherited and her mines were sold off and liquidated. They currently belong the state. Later, after my father married my mother, he placed a significant amount of bonds in her name, and when my brother was born, more of his thriving mines went into Thor's name."

 

"We all know the history of the mines, Odinson," Rolf says impatiently. "I want to know what makes you think you can sign over anything to that boy when you no longer are prince of a kingdom. Those are the stipulations of ownership." Beren sighs and nods slowly. "He is right, unfortunately. While I personally adhere to the principle that you and your brother are still royalty-"

 

"Thank you Councilor."

 

"-under Umbreon law, you must sit a throne of the physical type."

 

Rolf sneered triumphantly. "That old mantra about Asgard being a people and not a place doesn't fly here, Odinson."

 

"I can respect that," Loki says casually. "The law is the law and I suppose we must abide by it, royalty or not. But before we continue along that train of thought, I'd like to enter two more bits of evidence." He waves Arick over and Rolfson moves beside Veelan, digging through the bag and withdrawing rock after rock to deposit heavily on the table. Hilde watches the scene curiously and glances to Lerik, who gets up from the table and glares at his younger brother angrily. "The hell are you doing?" Arick declines to answer, merely turning his head to wait on Loki to speak again. Lerik grabs Loki's shoulder and spins him around, desperation in his voice. "This wasn't part of the plan!" he chokes. Loki shrugs his hand off and waves him away. 

 

“It wasn’t? You must pardon me, Lerik, I’m afraid there’s been a change of plans.” He turns once more to Beren and picks up one of the rocks. "Can you tell me what this is Councilor?" Beren takes the rock from Loki's hand and inspects it. "Moonphrite, looks like." 

 

"Are you certain? Look once more."

 

Beren complies. After a moment he shrugs and shakes his head. "Moonphrite. I'm sure of it." Loki nods. 

 

"Correct. This rock was taken from mine 243, about five months ago. I managed to snag this lone rock from the marketplace. The vendor was so kind as to explain to me where his bunch of moonphrite came from." Loki tapped the rock against the table but it stayed solid, not even leaving a hint of dust. "Now..." He tiptoes his fingers across the row of rocks and chooses another, seemingly at random. "How about this one?" The councilor inspects this new rock the same as he had the other but he stops short and picks up the moonphrite rock once more. He weighs the two, a frown of confusion crossing his face. "I...this isn't...something isn't right." He glances up to Loki and then looks to Rolf. "I don't understand what's going on."

 

"Nothing is going on!" Rolf exclaims and he snatches the rock from Beren, inadvertently crumbling it in his hand.

 

"Nothing indeed," Loki says, and he picks up yet another rock, crushing this one too in his fist. "Moonphrite is solid, dense, heavy. _Moonrock_ is...well, not. Though they are nearly identical in appearance, they have very little in common as far as chemistry goes. I got these, too, at the vendor down in the market." For a moment, everyone is silent and shocked until Lerik starts to laugh. "The 'phrite is fake. Fuck me, the fucking 'phrite is fake!" He rounds on his father then and slaps the table, jostling papers and wine glasses as he does so. "You've been passing off moonrock as the real thing! You fraud!" Rolf shoves Lerik back and scowls. "There's no way you can prove that!" he hisses. "No way!" 

 

"Just like there's no way you can prove that you weren't trying to kill me?" Siriana pipes up, and Rolf growls, moving to dart across the room toward her but Arick stops him. "You won't touch her," he says quietly, a deadly undercurrent to his tone. Rolf attempts to shove him aside but the boy is stronger and he holds him still. "You'd defend that bitch with your life, wouldn't you, you idiot?" Lerik says. Arick turns his head to eye his brother down, his jaw working as he struggles to keep Rolf contained. "And you would throw her kindness away like trash, all for money! All for noth-"

 

"SHE KILLED OUR MOTHER!" Lerik wails, and Rolf goes still. "She had a direct hand in Mother's murder; wheedled her way into our fool father's good favor and had her murdered!"

 

"There's no way that's true!" Arick protests, but he looks to Siri anyway and she shakes her head. "Mother's death was an accident-"

 

"It wasn't," Rolf interjects. "Your brother is right for once in his pathetic life. I didn't know until much later, after she'd trapped me with the girl-"

 

"You won't talk of Elin like that," Arick interrupts, but Rolf rambles on. 

 

"She came up dead not long after Siriana arrived on this moon, and I know she had something to do with it."

 

"You've got proof then, Rolf?" Beren dares to ask. Rolf opens his mouth to speak but he can't get a word out before he shakes his head. "No, not...not yet, but I know there's truth to it!"

 

"But that reason isn't why you had Mama poisoned, is it?" Elin asks, her eyes cold and hard and Rolf laughs. "I've told you, you little brat! If I wanted either you or your precious Mama dead, you already would be!"

 

"Unless..." 

 

Everyone turns their head to look to Veelan, including Beren. "I'm afraid I didn't ask you before, sir, but what's your business in this case?"

 

"Acting as his Highness' counsel in the matter. And, uh...I've got some personal evidence to add." He pulls out an empty vial, and holds it up for everyone to see. "Aqua tofana. Watered down, but poison no less. Now, a drop or two of this, at full potency, would be fatal. But at this strength? Ah, it'd take...oh, a few months give or take to really have any real affect. It's odorless, colorless, mostly tasteless unless you've got a tongue for the stuff." He pops open the cork and dabs a little on his forefinger, sucking the drop of diluted poison into his mouth. "This was found in Rolf Jirngson's desk, along with some old insurance papers...and, uh, Rolf's appointment as ambassador to Asgard." Beren frowns and settles his watery gaze on Rolf. "Do you deny this, Rolf?" Rolf stutters, no doubt to protest but Veelan steps in front of him and grins dastardly. "Let me guess, you use it every morning, yeah? Dash some in Lady Siriana's morning drink perhaps?" 

 

"It doesn't matter if I did or didn't!" Rolf exclaims. "Lerik was the one who gave the poison in the first place, he was the one who told me-"

 

"A blatant lie," Loki finishes. "Because if you'll look to these papers, councilor, you'll see that a year passed between Lady Kryna's mysterious demise and the docking permit for a ship called... _The Mercy_."

 

"The pirate ship?" Beren asks, thoroughly confused. "What's any of this have to do with a murder? What's this got to do with fraud or-"

 

"The pirate ship you're talking of is captained by a pirate known as Dread Davna. Everyone knows that. What everyone doesn't know is that Dread Davna has one surviving sister." Loki stops and looks to Siri, and she gives one brief nod. "Siriana Magnusdottir. It's right there on the paper. Siri decided to settle in Umbreon while her sister continued her adventures elsewhere. And it was nearly another year longer before a marriage license between Siriana Magnusdottir and Rolf Jirngson was applied for. So you see, there's no way Lady Siri had any involvement in the Lady Kryna's death."

 

"I follow that, Loki, I do, but why are you bringing this up?" Thor asks.

 

He looks to his brother as if it's obvious. "Because Rolf accused Siriana of conspiracy to murder to cover his own tracks!"

 

Rolf bursts into laughter, deranged and wild, and Arick lets him go. He sinks into a chair at the table. "Oh pah. As if you could get anyone to truly believe that. Whatever is said in this room can be fully contested. No one would believe you even if I confessed."

 

"Do you?" Elin asks, her voice strong and clear. "Do you confess?" Her father shrugs. "Why not? It's what you want to hear, eh? I petitioned my son to buy poison. I snuck a little bit in your mama's morning tea. No big deal to me. She's not dead and nobody here has the clout I do-" He trails off as Elin smiles. "No clout necessary papa," she drawls, and she withdraws from her mother's embrace, walking quickly around the table. "I've got the proof in my hand." She holds up an ink pen and presses down the clicker, grinning triumphantly as Rolf's voice plays back clear as day. He stares at her wide eyed and pale while she throws open the dining room doors.

 

"Constable! I think you're needed now!" she yells, and there is the sound of footsteps before the Constable, a short, broad shouldered man comes into the dining room. Behind him, several officers stand as well as both Agatha and Bruce, who peeks around the healer with a smirk on his face. "Did I miss all the excitement?" he asks, and Thor can't help but to snort.

 

"I'd say. Where have you two been anyway?"

 

Agatha swoops into the room and pats the king on his shoulder. "Doing the boring work while you had all the fun." Rolf and Lerik both cower where they stand, and the Constable crosses his arms, regarding them intently. 

 

"You have anything to say for yourself, Rolf?" he asks. Rolf says nothing, keeping his eyes on the ground. "I'm taking you in then, and your boy as well. Conspiracy to murder, intent to do bodily harm, fraud...we've been following the fraud for a while now but didn't quite have enough to drag you in. Couple of other things but, uh, they'll give the full list of charges down at the station." The officers cuff Rolf and move toward Lerik, as his eyes follow Elin angrily.

 

"I would have offered you everything," he says tremulously. "I loved you."

 

Elin shakes her head and scoffs. "You only wanted me as an ornament. You never loved me. Not at all." She hands the constable the pen recorder and sighs, walking back to Siri and wrapping her arms about her. "

 

You alright, Poppet?" Siri asks, and Elin nods.

 

"I think so. A wee tired." 

 

"But what becomes of the mines now?" Beren asks. "If Lerik bought shares in them-"

 

"Lerik didn't buy anything from anyone," Loki explains. "The mines listed on that so called contract where the ones previously in possession of our sister. They no longer belong to anyone but the state, so he basically signed for nothing."

 

Beren rubs his eyes and grumbles. "All of this...all of this a ruse simply to expose a conspiracy to murder?"

 

Loki smiles. "Something like that. Oh, and as far as that little rule goes...you're right. Thor is, by Umbreon law, no longer the king of any kingdom and can no longer hold possession of those stocks or mines. However, the shares in my name still stand."

 

"How?" Beren asks, a little tiredly. "You're no longer a prince either." 

 

"I'm not. But Lerik had the right of it. I am a king. King of Jotunheim to be exact. You see, Odin Allfather didn't sire me...he only adopted me. And the mines and bonds he put in my name are made out to his ward and adopted son, Loki, son of Laufey. Laufey's dead, and he only had one heir. And that heir is me."

 

Thor blinks twice and then a grin breaks out on his face. "You know what, she was right."

 

"Who was right?" Loki asks, as he picks up his papers and puts them neatly into his pockets.

 

"Our dear sister. She said you sounded just like Father and...well, she was right. That was an Odin Borson move if there ever was one." Loki raises a brow to that but shakes his head.

 

"I disagree, brother. That was a Frigga Fjorgnsdottir move." He follows Beren and Ardressa from the dining room and watches as Lerik and Rolf are loaded into the arresting speeder. Hilde sidles up beside him and wraps and arm around his waist, waving to the two broken men in the back.

 

"Toodaloo, boys. Toodaloo."

 

* * *

 

"So...how did you know?" Hilde asks, her head propped up on his chest and her body bare and damp from her bath.

 

"Know what?"

 

The last thing he wants to do is talk, especially with a bed this comfortable, but he knows Hilde is curious so he entertains her. Besides, he loves how raspy her voice is when she's tired.

 

"How'd you know that the rocks were fake? I didn't know you were a geologist." Loki smiles indulgently and smooths her curls back from her face. "Veelan actually tipped me off to that little plot point. He knows a little bit about everything and he insisted something wasn't right with the moonphrite being sold at market. To be truthful, I hadn't expected to hear from him; sometimes he's on moon, other times he's roaming the galaxy in search of trouble. But anyway, he showed me how to pick the real thing from the fake ones and I confessed my misgivings about Rolf and the trade agreements...all of that. We started talking and...well. You've partially got Veelan to thank for saving us out of this."

 

Hilde hums and traces little lines on Loki's bare chest. "That entire reveal was a ride," she murmurs. "And you managed to keep all of that information to yourself...without spilling anything to any of us?" 

 

"I couldn't," Loki insists. "I had to maintain an air of duplicity and so I had to keep you in the dark about a few things. Can you truly say you'd have been able to give as authentic a performance as you had in that dining room had I told you everything?" She shakes her head after a pause. "I knew for a fact that Thor couldn't, so I only told him what he needed to know, as well as you and Siri and Hertha. You all got whatever bits I needed you to know at the time. Veelan was the only one who knew the whole plot and he had no real stake in the matter...at least not right then." Hilde narrows her eyes at him and he wonders just what she and his cousin discussed out in the hall earlier. For a moment he thinks she'll say something, but instead she lays her head down and sighs, snuggling into him closer and closing her eyes.

 

"So the mines-not yours, the ones that were Thor's-they go to the state?"

 

"Mmhm. And because the former king himself bought those interests, only someone of Aesir lineage can purchase them."

 

"But-"

 

"Without a proper ambassador, the petitioner must have Umbreon citizenship. You'd think Veelan would qualify, but his mother birthed him in Vanaheim and Arick was born the year before Rolf and Kryna came to Umbreon; if this were any where else, they both could apply for citizenship, but you have to be born here to be considered a citizen. The only person who fits the bill is Elin."

 

"And she isn't of age yet." Loki waves his hand and shrugs. "Well...not necessarily true. There's no age of majority on Umbreon. Too many different kinds of people and too many different cultures...there's barely an age of consent, sadly. So Elin can petition for the mines and claim them by virtue of her lineage and of her birth. She's already told me she'll have papers drawn up to make her claim in the next day or so. And I'm selling my shares to buy supplies. I've no need for mines or bonds on Midgard, at least as far as I know."

 

"Good," Hilde says with a yawn, and she quiets down then, her breathing leveling out until Loki is certain she's asleep. Exhausted, he snaps his fingers and turns out the lights, drawing the blankets up around her and settling back into his pillow. He's a breath away from slumber when her voice pipes up again in the dark.

 

"Lackey?"

 

"Yes, love."

 

"Can we get married tomorrow?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the final countdownnnnnn! What a wild ride, huh? A bunch of smart, sneaky ass folks working together is a beautiful thing. And now we've got a wedding to plan, so that'll be fun. :D
> 
> We're almost to the end of this fic, and I'm honestly really sad about it but good things do end eventually-at least until they're picked up by the sequel. Mark your calendars! "Rend Apart the Heavens" will come sometime in late March/early April!
> 
> A few notes about this chapter: 
> 
> Veelan Myrnason (Vilison) is Thor and Loki's paternal cousin. His father is one of Odin's brothers, Vili. Veelan is illegitimate however and was never claimed by Vili though Odin did claim him as his nephew when he was older. He's about half a millennia older than the Odinson brothers and remembers the Valkyries, Hela, and the conquests as well.
> 
> Also: 
> 
> Arick doesn't remember Kryna. He was a toddler when she was killed (much in the same way that Hilde doesn't remember anything about her own birth mother.) He only knows what Lerik has told him, so while he honors Kryna's memory, he considers himself Siri's son.
> 
>  
> 
> Come holla at me on tumblr, lilithenaltum as always. I also take coffees on ko-fi.com/lilithenaltum.


	25. xxiii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quiet day before a wedding; nuptials and a crowning. Asgard gets a new princess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love comments and thoughts and love; if you'd like, I have a ko-fi (lilithenaltum) and I also love chit chatting via tumblr!

Hilde had _mostly_ been kidding when she'd asked Loki to get married the next day. She most definitely did want to marry him (something that still surprised her) but it could wait until they made it to Midgard, considering all the work they'd have to do once they got there. There really wasn't a rush on something like this; she knew she loved him and he loved her and honestly, she'd be fine not marrying him at all if he wasn't into that sort of thing.

 

And yet, there was a little part of her that she long ago had thought been buried that really wanted to get married, to wear a fancy dress and pledge forever and always to one person. Just a few months ago, she'd have scoffed completely at the idea. But just a few months ago, she'd have laughed at the thought of ever returning to Asgard, and look how that had worked out.

 

She woke slowly and naturally, wrapped in warm sheets and around an even warmer body. Loki was already awake and reading, though he didn't stir much at all until she lifted her head. "Morning, my love," he said softly, a smile coming to his lips as she leaned up to kiss him.

 

This was _nice_. This was more than nice, really. She was really looking forward to this for the foreseeable future.

 

"What are you reading?" she asks, scooting up to lay beside him. He wraps an arm about her shoulders and pulls her in tight to him, spreading the book out across both their laps.

 

"Mother's grimoire," he says. "Wanted to refresh myself on a few spells and possibly figure out some I never got around to learning. It's an extensive collection of things she picked up over the years and alongside her travels. And look, I found this just a hour ago."

 

He flips the large, heavy book toward the back and slides a fingernail under the binding, revealing a hidden pocket that contains a small, well worn notebook. There doesn't seem to be anything remarkable about it, but Loki seems excited in showing it to her, so she accepts it into her hands and looks it over.

 

"What is it?" she asks after a while. The pages are empty and there isn't even an inscription anywhere on the book to give any clues to what it's for. But Loki grins and slides his finger over the first page, revealing scrolling, near faded handwriting.

 

It's while reading the first few lines does Hilde realize it's a diary. And as she keeps reading, it dawns on her that it's Frigga's diary. It's quite old too, a few millennia old from what she can tell of the dates, places, and setting. She looks up at Loki and quirks her mouth into a grin.

 

"You realize this is a breach of privacy, right?"

 

He laughs. "Nonsense! Why would she have left it here if she didn't want me to find it?"

 

Hilde rolls her eyes, but she hands him the notebook back, watching as he reveals line after line of old writing. "She had it hidden in the back of this big thing, put an invisibility spell on the paper-"

 

"In the ink!" he corrects, but he's so excited she doesn't mind.

 

"-and I'm assuming she never once mentioned this to you. Or anyone, for that matter. I really don't think she expected anyone to find it."

 

"She would have expected I would, eventually," he counters. "She always gave me free reign to her library and her grimoire, after a time." He pauses, seemingly stuck on a word, and frowns. "The trick to this spell is figuring out what language she wrote this in and then transcribing it while deconstructing the spell. Simple stuff, really, just requires a bit of concentration but...I have no idea what this word is."

 

Hilde perks up at that. "Can you see it, at least?"

 

Loki nods. "In my minds eye, yes." He thinks for a moment and then leans over, snagging a few sheets of paper off his nightstand. "If I spelled it, do you think you could..."

 

She grins. "I could try." But then, she hesitates. She doesn't know much about seidr though once upon a time, she'd wanted to learn. It's probably too late to learn anything now, especially something like this. She says as much and Loki shakes his head, frowning as if the idea is absurd.

 

"My love, you are one of the most intelligent and gifted individuals I've had the pleasure of meeting. You can do this. And besides, all of us possess a bit of seidr in us. It never truly goes away, it simply is buried if it isn't cultivated." He covers her hand with his own, stroking the skin there reassuringly and she sighs.

 

"If you're convinced..."

 

"I am."

 

"I'll try. For you. Only you, Lackey." The smile on his face is worth the headache she knows she'll have later.

 

* * *

 

She never gets a headache, but she does get a crash course in how to manipulate the energy around her to do what she wants. It's a slow going process at first, but Loki is patient and explains how to reach inside, gather the tiny strings of seidr, and use them for simple things. She starts with door locking spells and turning the lights on and off until she's worked up the ability to help with a bit of the translating.

 

Loki does most of the seidr based work. Every couple of sentences, he recites a simple phrase that unlocks the words on the page, and she's able to translate them into Allspeak. As time goes on, he has to unlock entire paragraphs and passages and every few pages, the language changes. It's entirely amusing and really thrilling to think that Queen Frigga had been so gifted with words that she could mix her diary entries up with obtuse, near extinct and mostly unknown language. Some of the words are unrecognizable to her and she huffs in frustration, but she doesn't give up until she can work out the syntax and the usage. She conjugates, comes up with something legible, and then pieces the parts together until they've uncovered entire entries. And once in a while, he'll have her repeat an incantation with him, over and over until she's tongue tied. More often than not, though, a bit of the text uncovers and she's laughing happily while Loki looks on, proud as can be.

 

Hours fly by like this and she doesn't realize it's the middle of the day until there's a knock at Loki's door. He glances at the both of them and snaps his fingers quickly, covering their nudity in something simple and light, and then gets up to answer.

 

"I imagine the two of you have a very good reason for skipping breakfast and lunch." Siri leans against the door frame, a brow raised and a tray at her hip. "I'm _such_ a good friend. I brought you something to snack on."

 

For the first time, Hilde realizes she's hungry and she nearly jumps from the bed in an effort to take the tray from Siri. It's laden down with vegetable soup, fruit, big chunks of cake and a loaf of warm, brown bread. She sets the tray right in the middle of the book strewn bed and slides over, squished right up against Loki and smiles when Siri settles in beside them. They eat while she chats, giving them updates on the fate of the ambassadorship and her plans for the future.

 

"I've got letters of recommendation to write," Siri is saying, sipping on punch. "Most of the staff will be able to find other jobs, though I worry about Alys. She's been cooking here since before either Rolf or I got here and honestly, I believe it's high time she retires. I'm thinking of setting up a nice little spot for her in the hills...maybe something close to Beren and Ardressa? I know they'd look after her."

 

"Why don't she just come with us?" Hilde asks. Loki looks up over his glass of brandy and agrees. "We'll have more than enough supplies now and we've got room. Besides, it won't take us much longer to get to Midgard."

 

Siri smiles. "I suggested it. Elin and I are coming with you and Arick is going to meet us there in the next few years. But she's lived her entire life on this moon, and it's her home so...I think she'd much rather stay put. She's fond of Ardressa anyway; I don't imagine it'd be too much trouble for her to spend her days puttering around in their kitchen. Their cook is getting married next year and probably will be taking time off for that. So it all works out."

 

"And Arick? You said he's staying on for a while." Loki stuffs a piece of bread into his mouth and leans forward, effectively squishing Hilde between himself and Siri. Hilde glares in his direction but there's a smirk on his face that tells her he's doing this on purpose. She's got her hands full with soup or she'd be digging fingers into his ribcage.

 

"He needs to stay on to make sure Elin's shares are taken care of. And once all of that is done, he says he'll drop by. Whether he'll stay on with us...well, that's anyone's guess. He told me Sir Veelan offered him a position doing whatever Veelan does." Siri leans back against the headboard, giving Hilde a little more breathing room and she barely suppresses a sigh.

 

"What exactly _does_ Veelan do?" she asks, and both Siri and Loki shrug.

 

"No one really knows," Loki says, finishing his chunk of bread. "I've given up asking him for specific details and he refuses to volunteer the information. Whatever it is, it makes him decent money and gives him a wily reputation."

 

Siri laughs and snags a few dried figs from the tray. "Veelan does a little of everything. But no one really knows what everything is. And he's never worked with someone; I'm curious to know how this will go, he and Arick. He seems to like him well enough."

 

By now, Hilde has finished her soup and she wiggles from between both bodies to put the tray on the writing desk in the far corner. "It's so cold without you, my love," Loki teases, waggling his brows as she attempts to straighten the sheets. "You've got plenty of blankets and another Valkyrie beside you. You'll be fine."

 

Loki glances to Siri. "So it's true? You were once a Valkryie?" Siri nods, and starts to tell him the story. In the meantime, Hilde gathers the books from where they're skewed at the foot of the bed, and crawls over the blankets to settle back between the both of them.

 

It's a tight fit, but she can't deny that it is cozy. And, she doesn't have her lap full of food now, so there's a little payback to give out. Fingertips, light as feathers, slide along the bare skin of Loki's forearms. He startles at the touch and opens his mouth to say something, but she taps her fingers to her lips to shush him.

 

"And so, I spent a few centuries as one of Asgard's best. It was fun while it lasted. After Heim was called, I left with my sister and roamed the cosmos for a while." She stops in her story and looks between Hilde and Loki.

 

"Whatever are you two doing?"

 

Hilde smiles sweetly. "Not a thing. We're simply listening." Loki says not a word, though he squirms and his skin is flushed. Her fingers have drifted from his arm down his side and into his trousers, where she's brushing her nails right at the edge of his bare hips. He isn't wearing underwear.

 

"Uh huh," Siri deadpans, completely unconvinced. "The rest of this story is boring, trust me. Met Rolf, married him, raised his boys and had Elin. Nothing exciting there. I am quite curious, though, about what we'll do once we get to Midgard. Any arrangements, Loki?"

 

For a second, the prince can't say a word. Hilde's got fingers wrapped around his half hard cock and she's just barely stroking. She tries hard not to burst into peals of laughter when he stutters out an answer, his face red and warm.

 

"Um, there's...there's a piece of land on Midgard in what...what is known as Nor-hmmm. Um. Norway?"

 

He squeaks the last part out and it's then that Hilde's composure breaks. She starts to giggle uncontrollably and he growls, rolling over on top of her until she's squished underneath him. "You've got a lot of nerve, woman," he says, eyes twinkling with mischief. His lips nibble at the skin of her neck, his fingers slip down to her sides and he tickles her until she's in tears. For a second the two of them forget that Siri is in bed beside them, but she clears her throat loudly, watching the pair with humor.

 

"If I didn't know any better I'd think the two of you were a couple of children," she says.

 

Loki rolls off Hilde and sighs, burying his face in the pillows. "Thanks, Siri," he mumbles. Hilde's giggles have cooled a bit, though she still has tears in her eyes from her tickling. She wipes her face and runs her fingers through Loki's hair until he's nearly purring in bliss.

 

She doesn't miss the look on Siri's face.

 

Her friend smiles. "That's exactly what you are," Siri continues, softly and fondly. "Kids. In love." Her smile widens into a grin, and she grabs Hilde's hand, sliding her thumb along the brilliant blue and green ring that rests on her finger.

 

"When were you planning on telling us about this?"

 

Hilde bites her lip and glances to Loki who settles for shrugging.

 

"Whenever Hilde wanted," he says and she snorts.

 

"Oh, so you're going to put this on me, huh?" He chuckles and presses a soft kiss to her temple.

 

"When have I ever taken responsibility for anything, my love?" He shifts in the bed and looks to Siri. "Truthfully, I don't know when we were going to say something. I, personally, wanted to keep this to myself for at least a little while. I know for a fact once Thor knows-"

 

"Thor already knows," Hilde adds. "He uh...he saw the ring during dinner last night."

 

Loki snorts. "I'm surprised he hasn't come running to our door to offer congratulations."

 

"Our door?" Hilde asks, teasing. Loki smiles gamely.

 

"Hm. You spend as much time in here with me as you've spent in your own quarters so...and aren't we to be wed today?"

 

There's a beat where no one moves or talks, though Loki waits expectantly. And Hilde is reminded of her sleepy query the night before and she opens her mouth to protest.

 

"Uh...we don't have to marry today. That was...I was-"

 

His face starts to fall and she feels her heart sinking and she stops talking then turns to Siri.

 

" _Could_ we get married today? I mean, it's not too last minute?"

 

Siri blinks in silence before nodding her head. "There's no wait limit on marriage licenses in Umbreon. You can get married whenever you want. And, Loki's royalty so...I'm sure we can get a justice of the peace out here in an hour flat. That way, none of us will have to try trekking to town."

 

Hilde looks back to Loki and searches his face, looks deep into his eyes. There's nothing there but love for her; love, devotion, and hope. She knows there's a fear somewhere in the back of his mind for things yet to come, and that whatever they have to face in the future will be hard, but she knows she wants to do this with him. _Together_.

 

Well, she'd planned on marrying him anyway. Perhaps they can have a proper ceremony with all the pomp that came with it on Midgard. It wouldn't hurt to get the legal aspect out the way. She smiles gently and presses her palm to his cheek.

 

"You really wanna marry me today, Lackey?" she asks, just for good measure. She already knows what his answer will be.

 

"I want to marry you right now, Brunhilde," he says, turning to kiss her palm and he grins then, a pure and beautiful one that makes her heart swell with love. "I suppose tonight will have to suffice." She chuckles and leans forward to kiss his lips, but is interrupted by a loud clap behind her.

 

"Well then! I guess I'll have to pull the decorations back out," Siri says with glee. She bounces off the bed and hurries to the door. "We've got a wedding to plan!"

 

* * *

 

Loki and Hilde spend the entire day holed up in his room. He's got instructions to be downstairs at quarter to seven while she doesn't have to be there till five minutes till. The ceremony is set to take place in the ballroom, where the remaining servants are scurrying to and fro, throwing up flowers and decorations. Alys has recruited the help of a couple of Valkyrie trainees in the kitchen for food prep, while Agatha and Bruce help with seating charts for the reception outside. There isn't enough room for everyone in the house for the actual nuptials, but Veelan insists he can rig up a screen so that everyone can watch in real time.

 

It's a little bit exhausting.

 

In the meantime, they get visits from nearly everyone they can think of. Thor drops by more than a few times, along with Heimdall, who wishes the pair well and sits to chat for a while. He fills them in on his vision problems, detailing the intensity of his headaches and how everything is blurry and a bit out of focus.

 

"Do the tonics help, Heim?" Loki asks. He takes some notes while the watcher talks.

 

"They ease my headaches well," he responds. "But it's just a matter of time before another one comes on. I hypothesize that this is tied to the Bifrost's destruction...I'd had a little bit of trouble previously when it was broken, but that passed as soon as it was rebuilt."

 

"I don't imagine you'd have any shards of Bifrost with you, Loki?" Hilde asks and Loki shakes his head.

 

"None at all. That's one thing I didn't think about bringing with me. There's got to be something else that can help this, though." He turns to Heimdall and places a hand on his shoulder. "I'd hate for you to lose your sight, old friend."

 

Heimdall smiles, though it's a little tired. "So would I. I've relied on it for so long, I'm not sure what I would do without it. But I suppose, if that's what happens, I can adjust."

 

Loki shakes his head. "We won't stop trying to find a way to help you, that's for sure. There's some friends of Thor's on Midgard that most definitely could." He makes a face and Hilde knows he's thinking of the Dr. Strange he'd told her about. "Not my favorite people, but I'll take help from where I can get it. In the meantime..."

 

He opens his hand and a pair of spectacles rest on his palm. "I don't know if this will help any..."

 

Heimdall tries the glasses on and blinks a few times, allowing his eyes to adjust. After a moment, he smiles.

 

"I think these will do just fine. Thank you." He leaves the two with hugs for both, in brighter spirits now that things a bit clearer.

 

"So you can just conjure a pair of specs out of the air, huh," Hilde says with a proud smile. It wavers when she notices how pale he is. "Love...are you okay?"

 

Loki gives her a weak smile. "A little drained. Putting the proper spell on those things took more effort than I thought it would. I just need a nap, is all." Hilde thinks of protesting, but she swallows her words for right now and gets up to lock the door. When she settles back in to the bed, she gently tugs on Loki's shoulders and he crawls over to rest his head on her belly.

 

"It's so soft and warm right here," he murmurs, wrapping his arms about her middle. She snorts, though there is a lingering fear in the back of her mind. Try as she might, she can't quite push that away. Something is wrong with Loki, and he's not telling her what.

 

"You make me sound like a pastry," she says, stroking his brow as his eyes flutter. "Close your peepers, Lackey. Get a nap. I'll wake you when it's time." He lets his lids slip shut and he lets out a slow, long breath. As she moves her fingers from his forehead to his hair, she starts to scratch his scalp and she hums, a soft little lullaby that she remembered from a long, long time ago. He's asleep within minutes, and she watches in relief as his color slowly begins to return.

 

He sleeps right up until 6:20, when he starts to stir on his own. Hilde had moved him to the pillows beside her while she translated from Frigga's diary. Once she got the hang of the spells (something that admittedly, took longer than she liked), she'd been able to fly through most of the journal, nearing the end where she reads of Frigga's thoughts of Thor's birth. There's been parts of the entries that both shocked and amused her, and a couple that are heartbreaking; the last few have been a combination of hopeful, nervous, and happy. Frigga had been an incredibly interesting woman.

 

"You've about finished with Mama's diary, haven't you?"

 

She turns to him and sets the book in her lap.

 

"There's a few more entries to do. But yes. Wasn't as hard as I thought."

 

He watches her for a long moment and then shakes his head, sitting up in the bed with a yawn.

 

"You surprise me so much, you know."

 

"How?" she asks, patting his head to check for fever. She realizes that she's not sure if she'd know if he'd have one; his body temperature is significantly higher than hers. "You already know I'm a poly-whatever."

 

"Polyglot," he corrects, mostly out of habit but she still rolls her eyes. "And that's beside the point, though it does continue to awe me how adept you are with language." He takes the diary from her and flips through several of the pages, pausing every so often to correct a line or two. But for the most part, she's pleased to note, she's gotten the spell and the translating right.

 

"This is just...you are _magnificent_." He stares at her with pride in his face and she has to look away so she doesn't blush.

 

"Yeah, well. You tell me that all the time-"

 

"I mean it." He's being incredibly earnest. She's vaguely aware that he needs to be dressed and down to the ballroom in twenty minutes. She tells him as much.

 

"I'll be ready shortly. Right now 'm commenting on the fact that you picked that spell up so well."

 

Hilde shrugs. "You said it was fairly simple." She doesn't mention that it had taken her nearly two hours just to remember how to get the incantation just so, or that she'd nearly chunked the diary across the page in frustration when she'd been off by one word. But for someone who'd just learn to use seidr, it hadn't been nearly as difficult as she'd thought it'd be.

 

"And it is," he agrees. "But only if you've been mastering seidr work as long as I have. You've been fiddling with that for a day and already you're damn good at it." He makes her look at him and when she does, it feels as though he's staring directly through the core of her. "I'm telling you that you're the most incredible person I've had the pleasure of meeting, and you're trying to shrug it off as though it's no big thing."

 

He sounds so adorably exasperated that it makes her smile.

 

"Maybe it's because I already know I'm incredible, you idiot." She pecks his cheek and he groans.

 

"You can't distract me with affection, Hilde," he says, laughter in his voice. "It won't work this time."

 

"Mmhm. But I _can_ distract you by telling you that you're going to be late. _For your own wedding_. You've got fifteen minutes to get dressed and down to that ballroom."

 

He sighs, rolls off the bed slowly, and snaps his fingers, effortlessly changing his outfit. It's all black, leather and silk with silver accents along the high collar. She appraises him appreciatively and when he conjures up a hair brush, she gets up on her knees to tend to his hair. It's not until he sits does she notice the cape is lined with a pale, shiny silver material.

 

"Is this new or..."

 

He turns a bit and smiles. "It's new. A few leftover bits from Sakaar. I've got something you'd like, too, if you want to change now."

 

She hums and glides the brush through his hair one more time, satisfied with the neatness and moves to refresh her own braids. "Should I do a crown again? I'd have to call Agatha, probably. I can't quite get the hang of that one."

 

He shakes his head and motions for her to come in front of him, where she plops down on his lap and lets him smooth out her flyaways and work out the tangles. It's relaxing work, and they're quiet the entire time, the only noise their soft breaths and the jingle jangle of the chains on Loki's wedding attire. "There, all done," he finally says, and he places a heavy silver hand mirror in her hands for her to see. There's two intricate braids on either side of her head swooped around like a diadem, meeting in the middle to form one long, thick braid. A small cord of silver thread wraps securely around it.

 

"I look good, don't I?" she muses, grinning, and he kisses the side of her neck as he laughs.

 

"Always. Even better since your Lackey did your hair."

 

" _My_ Lackey? Hmmm." She turns and kisses his lips quickly. "I like that." When she hops off his lap she stands before him in her lounge wear, a soft cream tunic and leggings. "You know, if I didn't think Siri would have my hide, I'd marry you in this. What ya got for me?"

 

He fiddles with his hands and stands directly in front of her. "Close your eyes."

 

She raises a brow, but goes along with it. "Are you my fairy godmother?" she asks, and she nearly reopens her eyes when he doesn't chuckles like she expects him to. "Loki?"

 

"Just a second, sweetheart. I'm...trying to get this right." There's a whisper of a touch against her skin that she knows is his magic. It's warm and inviting and then cool, until she feels him step away and he sucks in a deep breath.

 

"Norns, you're beautiful," he whispers, and Hilde cracks an eye open.

 

"I need a mirror," she says, a little nervous at what he's done. While she trusts his judgement, the last thing she wants to be on her wedding day is ostentatious.

 

Loki pulls the floor length mirror from the corner and the moment she catches sight of what she's got on, she gasps. There aren't quite words to describe how beautiful her dress is. It's a stunning floor length, body skimming confection of silver and blue, the fabric light and slightly sheer. The front is high necked and modest, though the bodice is incredibly detailed, while the back is almost entirely bare. Behind her, a long cape, embroidered richly and splendidly, trails from her shoulders, giving peek a boo glimpses of her soft skin. It takes a moment before she realizes that the fabric looks familiar, and when she makes the connection, she finds her soon to be husband smiling softly.

 

"Siri said you'd adored that bolt of fabric. I thought perhaps you'd like to wear it tonight so...I held off on gifting it to you."

 

Without a word she walks to where he stands and takes his face in hand, kissing him deeply. She doesn't realize she's crying until he wipes a tear from her cheek. "Are you happy, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice thick with emotion. She can do nothing but nod and kiss him again.

 

* * *

 

It's with barely two minutes to spare does Loki finally leave for the ballroom. Hilde is left alone then in the bedroom, sitting quietly on the bed beside a tiny bejeweled dagger that had once been Frigga's. Loki had given it to her to carry down the aisle alongside her Dragonfang in lieu of flowers. There was only a few more minutes left to herself and she would be out the door, down the stairs, and a bride in under an hour.

 

She found she was oddly calm.

 

Not for the first time did Hilde dare to imagine her future as Loki's wife. Not only would she be marrying the prince of Asgard, she'd be marrying the heir to the Jotnar throne. It made her both princess and queen, though the last worked more in name only. Even still, it was something she had never imagined for herself. When she was younger, and less jaded, she'd imagined a life in the country at Gunnr's side, raising a gang of orphaned children and farming vegetables and sheep in domestic tranquility. And now, she realized she'd probably be getting the exact opposite.

 

She was to be the newest member of the royal family and her responsibilities would expand beyond her role as master of arms on the council. Now, she would be expected to act as an ambassador for the crown, to represent Asgard's throne wherever she went. She'd have to carry herself with her shoulders straighter, her head higher, her wits about her. It had been a while since she'd drank herself into a stupor, but now that was completely out the picture. It was hard to be a drunk and exact the kind of decorum expected of a princess. Her drinking problem would still need work, but now she had the added incentive of not disappointing her people.

 

It was all so daunting. Even still, she wanted this. She wanted Loki. She wanted every part of him-the nasty parts, the beautiful parts, the scared and broken and lonely man child but also the brave, loving, and fearless man. She wanted the woman who twirled about in a dark gown and kissed her breathless in a marketplace; the blue skinned, red eyed monster who loved her fully and gently. She wanted everything he had because he'd wanted everything she had-all her baggage, all her hurt and anger and issues. He loved her completely and so she could deal with a few more eyes on her, she could handle biting her tongue a little more often.

 

She'd still be Brunhilde. But she'd be _Princess Brunhilde_ now. It was almost like a fairy tale.

 

There's a knock at her door that jolts her from her thoughts and she stands, gathering her skirts, the dagger and her sword. The dagger dangled at her wrist by a ribbon, while she carried her Dragonfang at her side. "Are you ready, Hilde?" she heard, and she smiled.

 

"Heim! I honestly was expecting Bruce or Thor..."

 

Heimdall drew her into a long, warm hug and then stood back, adjusting the spectacles he wore. He looked stately and regal in his sharp suit, and with the glasses, gave an air of sophistication. "You shine like the brightest star, my dear," he says with a beaming smile, and she entwines her arm with his. "Are you nervous?"

 

She shakes her head. She thinks perhaps she's actually being honest right now.

 

"Are you certain you want to do this?"

 

There's a moment where she pauses, right by the banister before they descend to the ballroom. She's reminded of a time long ago when she'd made the trek from the city to the barracks and been asked the same question, the golden eyed young man escorting her to Mother Freya with the same sort of gentle worry. Hilde thinks it over one last time and images of a life with Loki flash through her mind. She nods her head firmly and grins.

 

"I'm as sure about this as I've ever been about anything." There's the unspoken promise of having her back no matter what behind his gaze, and he squeezes her hand, nods his agreement, and leads her to the ceremony.

 

The ballroom is beautiful. While the majority of the refugees were right outside the manor, watching from a large screen rigged up by Veelan and Bruce, several of her closest friends sat on either side of the aisle while a guard of Valkyries in training lined up, swords in hand, their makeshift armor and capes on though they'd been embellished a bit for the occasion. Fifteen on either side smiled at her as Heimdall escorted her to the dais, and as she cleared each girl, they offered her hushed congratulations and love. Ilsa wiped away happy tears while Nonna bit her lip to keep from crying. And the king waited, Arick, Siri and Elin to the left, Veelan, Agatha and Bruce to the right with happy faces and warm smiles, as she neared the end.

 

But she only saw Loki.

 

He looked nervous, his eyes wide, his mouth slightly open. He wrung his hands and shifted from one foot to the other, swallowed hard and blinked fast. The entire thing, at any other time, would have seemed like an overdone cliché. But somehow, it was moving and he was beautiful and when she finally took her arm from Heimdall, handed Siri her sword, and slid her hand into Loki's, the emotion began to catch up with her.

 

"I've been to a few weddings," Thor began, glancing between the two of them and then out to the crowd. "Stood as best man as one or two even. But I've never been so happy or so proud as I am tonight. My brother, half of my heart, marrying his beloved, sister to my soul. When I met Brunhilde, I knew she was something special." Hilde snorts out a watery laugh at the memory, prompting Loki to snicker as well. "And I confess that in the first few hours and days of knowing her, that I may have had a little tiny crush on her."

 

Loki rolled his eyes, though Hilde couldn't stop from giggling.

 

Thor continued. "But there was a period after where I had work to do and a people to take care of. All of you. All of you wonderful, incredible folk. And I don't regret that, I don't regret the responsibility I've been entrusted with. All of you matter so much to me." Thor rubs his eyes and takes a moment to regroup. "Anyway, in the days that followed, I noticed something. My brother was...well, he was given some purpose here and he had a kindred spirit in the Valkryie. It's something I noticed almost right away. Little things, days when they'd agree on something at council or take lunch together. Oh, they fought and bantered and occasionally probably beat each other up, but still. There was a connection. And then others started noticing. And I knew that maybe this would be something deeper than an odd friendship. Perhaps there could be love."

 

He stops for a moment and extends his hands to Hilde and Loki to take. They glance to each other but accept and he squeezes tightly. "I was right. I have rarely seen a love as wild and passionate and deep as I've seen with these two. Two halves of a whole who would shake down the stars for each other and insult each other all the while. Sometimes, even the most jagged of edges can find a hand strong enough to handle them. And this is what Brunhilde and Loki have found in each other." He crosses their hands over each other and pulls out a long red ribbon, tying it about their hands and knotting it tightly. He places one hand over theirs and then bows his head.

 

"These are the hands of your best friend, young and strong and full of love for you, that are holding yours on your wedding day, as you promise to love each other today, tomorrow, and forever. These are the hands that will work alongside yours, as together you build your future. These are the hands that will passionately love you and cherish you through the years, and with the slightest touch, will comfort you like no other. These are the hands that will hold you when fear or grief fills your mind. These are the hands that will countless times wipe the tears from your eyes; tears of sorrow, and tears of joy. These are the hands that will tenderly hold your children. These are the hands that will help you to hold your family as one. These are the hands that will give you strength when you need it. And lastly, these are the hands that even when wrinkled and aged, will still be reaching for yours, still giving you the same unspoken tenderness with just a touch. So may it be."

 

The guests all intoned after him as well as the bride and groom. "So may it be!"

 

"By the power given to me as son of Odin Allfather, heir and King of the throne of Asgard, god of thunder and lightning, and the _coolest_ Avenger, I now proclaim that you are wed, and forever shall it be." He glances between the two parties as he slips off the ribbon and grins so wide, Hilde swears she can see the backs of his teeth.  "You may now kiss your bride, brother!"

 

"Best part of the ceremony, to be sure," Loki quips, and pulls Hilde to him tightly. "Shall we go for a chaste peck or..."

 

"No tongue, Lackey," she replies with a smirk, pulling his head down to meet hers.

 

There was the rumble of applause and she swore she heard the people outside thundering in joy as well, and she couldn't remember a time when she'd been so happy. Loki's arms held her steadfast even when he finally pulled away, breathless and giddy and he kissed her on her forehead and cheeks as well.

 

"We're married," he breathes. "I can't believe I'm... _we're married_!" She couldn't help her laughter at his awe, even though it was incredibly endearing, and she nuzzles his nose with hers, closing her eyes again to soak in the feeling of the moment.

 

Married. She was _married_.

 

There was a pained tug at her heart and then she felt guilty, a flash of blonde hair and bright blue eyes in her mind. When she opened her eyes to look at Loki, he already knew. There was nothing but understanding and love in his eyes and he kissed her forehead once more. "I don't know if I'd ever be good enough to measure up to her surely impeccable standards," he says, cupping her face. "But I hope she knows how much I love her Hilde." Hilde chokes out a half laugh, half sob and nods.

 

"She'd like you, believe it or not. I think she'd approve."

 

"Everyone! While we have the bride and groom at the ready, we'll begin a quick little crowning ceremony." Thor's booming voice rumbles over those assembled and Hilde blinks her tears back quickly. "It's not as fancy as I'd like, but...well, you do what you can with what you have." He lowers his voice and leans toward her, smiling apologetically. "I'll make sure we have you a proper coronation once we're settled on Midgard, Hilde."

 

Loki respectfully steps aside so that Hilde can stand in front of her king alone. It's suddenly very quiet and quite still; she's more nervous about this than she was about getting hitched.

 

"I've a few questions to ask of you, before we make our declaration." Thor pulls out a slip of paper from his pocket and squints at it momentarily, before sighing and crumpling it back up. "You know...I'm not going to bother with the traditional script. I'll just ask you this. Do you swear to protect, guide, and shelter the people of Asgard?"

 

Hilde nodded before remember she had to actually respond. "Uh, I do."

 

"And will you remain loyal to the crown of Asgard, even over precedent of its king if it's called upon you?"

 

"I...you're going to have to clarify what you mean on that, your Majesty."

 

"I mean," Thor explains, "That if I, or Loki, do something really stupid one day and it puts us all in danger, you'll stage a coup to keep everyone safe?"

 

She glances to Loki, who shoots his brother a look. She wonders where _that_ came from.

 

"...yeah? I mean, I do."

 

"Good, good. And...hm. Oh! Will you use your position as crown princess to be both kind and firm, fierce and honorable, brave and gentle, and above all else, honest?" At that moment, Loki nods along with a sigh that speaks volumes and she finally understands where Thor is coming from. At that, she straightens her spine and is sure in her answer.

 

"All this, I promise to do."

 

"Well, in that case...brother, the crown?"

 

There's a slight of hand and a flash of seidr; above Loki's outstretched palm rests a beautiful gold haloed crown, adorned with twelve sparkling stars and glowing with power and magic. He carefully shifts the crown over to Thor, who handles it with a certain level of awe, before motioning for Hilde to kneel. "With the power imbued in me, Thor, the first of his name, son of Odin, king of Asgard and protector of her people, I pronounce you Brunhilde, princess of Asgard." He places the crown on her head and Hilde anticipates the weight of it, but it hovers above her head like a halo. It's a lovely little surprise and she glances up at it impressed. "Uh, you can stand now."

 

Once more, the room around them erupts into applause. Somewhere in corner of her eye she sees Siri wiping tears from her face and behind her, Veelan lets out a sharp whistle. She turns about and gives a brief wave, tries for a regal smile, but it comes out a little thin and terse. She's a bit overwhelmed with the attention squarely on her and she can feel her lungs constricting, can feel a rush of heat spread to her cheeks and chest. But before she can begin to panic, a cool palm slides into her own and she lets out a relieved sigh.

 

"How about we catch our breath a bit, sweetheart?" Loki says in a low, steadying voice. "Perhaps we can grab a few minutes alone before signing the licenses and the feasting starts." She nods and holds his hand tight and steady, an anchor in the sea of fervor about them.

 

As the crowd inside the ballroom clapped and the people outside the manor cheered, Hilde and Loki walked down the aisle hand in hand, a prince and his princess, a man and his wife. The Valkryie girls that lined the rows give a loud shout and extend their swords above the couple's heads, one by one, as they walk out the ballroom. They round the corner and continue down the corridor until Loki leads her out into the torch lit courtyard, the warm Umbreon air rustling her silvery gown. Without anyone but her husband around to watch, she takes the opportunity to twirl about in it, laughing happily when he grabs her hand and spins her faster. He pulls her close to his chest and sighs against her temple, and they stand still for long moments just to catch their breath.

 

"Me...a princess, " she says quietly after a time.  "Who'd have thought, huh?"

 

Loki lifts her hand to his mouth and kisses her knuckles, glancing up at the glowing, star studded crown that hovers over her hair. It's even more brilliant in the darkness.

 

"Only the Norns could have known, my love." He tugs her down to an empty bench and into his lap, where she presses her cheek to his head.  "For what it's worth, I think you'll do swell at your new job."

 

"Yeah?" His praise makes her smile proudly.

 

"Oh yes, most definitely. Besides, how many princes can say that they've got a Valkyrie as their princess? That gives you a little bit of an advantage already."

 

She hums in agreement. "Valid point. I mean, who else is going to keep a prince like you in line?"

 

His chest rumbles in laughter and he grasps her chin, his breath ghosting across her lips as he pulls her in for another kiss.

 

"Only you, Brunhilde. Only you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This...should not have taken as long as it did. I really apologize; it's been a combination of depression, laziness, lethargy, fatigue, and a lack of motivation or inspiration to write that delayed the chapter for so long. But the next won't even remotely take that long. I'll definitely have it up by next week at the latest.
> 
> Our babies are married now! The wedding ceremony is pretty last minute and on by the ear, which I think works rather well for these two. If you're wondering what Hilde's wedding gown looks like, it's [here](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d2/93/c2/d293c22b283e6676b5e16c15f5df8aa2.jpg). Her crown is inspired by Lana Del Rey’s halo of stars worn to the Grammys this year. Loki's is a variation of his Sakaar blue leathers but with a silk cape lined in silver fabric. 
> 
> I don't really have a set rule for a coronation, only that since she's not a ruling monarch but is an active member of the council and wife of the heir apparent, she's got a few extra duties and responsibilities. So her crowning has the flavor of a coronation.
> 
> Next chapter is the last in this story; I hope everyone has enjoyed this part so far and will stick around for the sequel. 
> 
> I love you all very much! I'm on tumblr (though not as much nowadays). Send me a message or an ask anyway if you'd like. I enjoy hearing from you guys so very much. <3


	26. interlude no. iii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One more interlude, before the Aesir hit the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and coffees are love, and I appreciate and adore everyone who's been following this story while I write it. I know I said only one more chapter, but somehow I managed to eek out two more and so we have this nice little interlude. Enjoy!

Three days of celebrations passed before the Aesir refugees finally left Umbreon.

 

In those three days, songs were song. Stories were written. Food was cooked and enjoyed. Friendships solidified, and the King of Asgard got some much needed rest. In between the Prince's wedding and their departure, Thor spent most of his time talking to Lady Sif on the little transmitter given to him by his cousin Veelan.

 

"You mean to tell me Loki's found himself a bride?!"

 

It was said with a combination of disbelief and odd happiness. No matter what had happened in the years between their childhoods and now, Sif always had a soft spot for the younger Odinson brother. More often than not, she'd been the one to defend him when the teasing got too rough. And, there was of course, the two weeks they spent as each other's 'intended'. But that had fizzled out the way romances between children always did, and by the next week, the entire business had mostly been forgotten.

 

Well, at least by Sif. Loki had never quite quit talking about it.

 

"That is precisely what he did," Thor said with a laugh, propped up on pillows and snacking on dates. He felt like it'd been centuries since he'd gotten to truly pamper himself. Just a hour ago, before his call with Sif, he'd taken the most luxurious bath. He could only imagine the kinds of soaps and oils that Hilde and Loki had in their hillside cabin. Beren and Ardressa had loaned it as a sort of honeymoon suite, a poor replacement for an Aesir honeymoon proper, and especially a royal one. It made him a little sad to think that had this been the old days, they'd have spent an entire month or more roaming the realms, just the two of them, both to relax and become acquainted as husband and wife but also to promote Brunnhilde's new position.

 

But those days were gone; there was no real reason to do a honeymoon tour of that kind now. And they didn't have the resources or the time to. Besides, it wouldn't be right to launch the new Princess out into the Nine without the blessing of her mother in law and...well...Mother was gone.

 

Mother was _gone_.

 

That was something he'd been struggling with for four years now. At the very least, he'd had his chance to say goodbye. Loki hadn't even had that much.

 

"Thor?"

 

Sif's soft, worried voice called to him over the transmitter. He shook his head of his cloudy thoughts and gave her his best smile, though he could tell it wasn't as bright as usual per her face.

 

"There's something you aren't telling me, isn't it, Your Majesty?"

 

"I...perhaps. But now isn't the time. I must do that in person."

 

Sif sighed, no doubt frustrated by his lack of forthcoming, but he really didn't think exposing Loki's duplicity over a transmission would be prudent. And honestly, that was something his brother would have to do himself. He wasn't going to do Loki's dirty work for him in this regard. Sif knew the bare bones of the situation right now, as Thor had cleared up any rumors and gossip surrounding the destruction of Asgard. But he hadn't gone into any real detail, especially about how Ragnarok had actually happened nor about who Hilde really was. That definitely was something Sif needed to find out in person.

 

She'd been angry and grieved her fallen friends, especially Fandral, but over the last few days, she seemed to have come to terms with it. Or, maybe she was still trying and putting on her own brave face. It was admirable, but he worried. There were wounds he had that still hadn't been addressed. Hadn't been any time for that.

 

"If you think that's best..." she finally said, with an audible sigh and Thor would have laughed had he not worried about her taking it the wrong way. There was blatant disapproval of his methods in that sigh, but she would accept his decision with the grace and loyalty she always did.

 

Even still, he found that she was still as forthcoming with her opinions no matter his crown, and for that he was grateful. He needed no-nonsense and honest people on his council. And as soon as they got to Midgard, met up with Sif, he would find her a place on his council.

 

If Thor was being completely honest, he wanted her to have a much _closer_ place. That little revelation, something he'd only really dwelled on in the last evening or so, had taken him aback. When had Sif ever been so beautiful? When had the glimmer of her blue eyes startled him like the way they had when she'd called tonight? There were times when he caught himself mapping the laugh lines on her face, memorizing the curve of her neck...little things that threw him off.

 

Sif had always been a friend, but nothing more. She was a warrior, a fighter. What in the world would she want with him?

 

And, of course, there had been that whole business with Jane. That was still a sore spot, though he now understood exactly why she'd called things off. He'd probably spend the rest of his days loving that woman; she'd been the first woman he'd truly cared about deeper than a roll in the sheets, but at the end of the day...perhaps they were too different. Perhaps she deserved someone more attentive, on her same level. He needed to heal from that relationship before even thinking of another, something he'd realized after meeting Hilde.

 

Oh, there'd been infatuation there. Who wouldn't have a crush on a Valkyrie of all people? But the longer he knew Hilde, the more he knew they would be nothing more than friends. Best friends, perhaps, and now, a sister. But nothing more. And that was fine with him; anyway, she'd stolen the heart of his little brother and that made him ridiculously happy.

 

(Not that he would actually decline should they decide to open the lines of their marriage up, but for the moment, Thor was sure those were still firmly closed.)

 

Focusing all his attention back to Sif, he began telling her all about the wedding, starting with Loki's ring shopping endeavor all the way to the six layer cake that Siri had gotten for sale at the bakery. They talked for hours, until Thor was half asleep in bed and all his dates were long gone. Sif chuckled at his yawning and urged him to go to sleep.

 

"We leave on the morrow," he said sleepily, and he gave her a grin. "And then a few more weeks, and you and I can have a drink in person. I've missed you, my friend." Her smile was genuine and lovely and made the sorest parts of his heart hurt a little bit less.

 

"And I've missed you. Now, get some rest. I'll give you a ring before you leave first thing. You know it's different on Vanaheim, it'll be evening here. But I'm sure I can stay up a bit past my bedtime."

 

"For me, Sif?" he asked, laughing happily. "If there's anything you love more than a good fight and glass of ale, it's your beauty rest."

 

If he wasn't as sleepy as he was, he'd have thought he saw her blush. But Sif was...Sif. Unperturbed and steadfast and so self assured; he was sure she didn't blush.

 

"Oh, my pillows are my best friends. But for you, I think I can spare a few minutes without."

 

They gave each other their salutations and with a soft 'goodnight', the transmission ended.

 

Thor straightened the bed a bit, setting his empty tray on the floor and wrapping himself around his large pillows. The bed was comfortable and the sheets soft and silky and he was so drowsy and yet...there was something missing.

 

No, he thought, as he let his breathing slow, let the sleep overtake him. There was _someone_ missing.

* * *

 

Breakfast was, in Bruce's opinion, one of the most overrated parts of the day.

 

He almost never had an appetite when he woke up, especially on early days. And yet, in the last two months, he'd made it a routine to at least have a few bites of something for the morning meal. Partly because it was in poor taste to decline food from your hosts and partly because he'd enjoyed eating with the people he now called friends.

 

Friends, and a lover too.

 

He had friends, back home, but this was something a little different. Thor had been his friend for the last few years, but in the meantime he'd struck up a close friendship with Brunnhilde, with Heimdall, and something close to friendliness at least with Loki of all people. That one had surprised him the most. And yet, he realized that perhaps the Prince was simply a little misunderstood in ways that he himself had been.

 

Oh, he was still an ass most of the time. There were parts of Loki that terrified Bruce, memories of a time when he'd been a murderous, raving lunatic hell-bent on conquering the Earth. And on Sakaar, when he'd come out his two year stint as the Hulk, that old nervousness around Thor's brother had resurfaced.

 

Bruce wouldn't call it nervousness so much as self preservation. He'd seen what Loki could do. He'd seen how he'd gotten inside Clint's head, threatened Natasha...

 

 _Natasha_.

 

That too, was something he was going to have to deal with. When he'd left Earth, there was some sort of unspoken bond between the two. They'd never quite made what they had official; even still, he'd told anyone who asked that he was in love with her. Or, at the very least, that he loved her. And he knew he wasn't wrong on that regard. He did love Natasha, dearly, and found he missed her quite a lot as well.

 

But two years was a long time to wait for someone. Two years changed most people, even if only a little.

 

There were still feelings there on his part. Perhaps there always would be, the same way he'd always hold a spot for Betty in his heart. They were two incredible women, beautiful and intelligent who had changed him in ways no one would ever truly understand, but now probably lost to circumstance and fate.

 

And yet, he wondered if he could truly have a third chance at this whole love thing.

 

Another incredible woman, half asleep and fighting it, lay in bed beside him, wearing nothing but skin and the sweat of their love making moments before. She lay half on him and half on the pillows, shifting every so often to get comfortable. Sometimes they lay like this, quiet and content, for most of the night before one or both drifted off into rest. Both of them were early risers and creatures of habit and Bruce had come to expect she'd be gone in the morning before he crawled out from underneath the covers.

 

"What are you overthinking now, Bruce?" she asked, her voice husky and raspy with sleep. Bruce smiled, and took a moment to collect his thoughts. Between the two of them, there had been nothing but honesty- from the moment she'd finally made the first move in expressing her interest to the first time they'd kissed. He refused to hide anything from her, and so she knew of his past, of both Betty and Natasha, and hadn't been bothered or threatened by either woman. That was something he really adored about her. In fact, she'd admitted to wanting to meet Natasha when they finally got back home.

 

"Well, you know...wondering what's gonna happen when we get where we're going."

 

She hummed and turned over a little more, snuggling in closer to him. Pretty soon, she'd be off the pillows altogether and resting fully on his chest, where she'd sleep the rest of the night.

 

"Have you ever thought of perhaps taking things as they come for once?"

 

He snorted. Of course, he didn't. And he didn't have to say so for her to know.

 

"I like plans, Aggie. I mean, look...if you've got some kind plan, no matter what happens you can at least adjust, yeah?"

 

"Maybe."

 

"We've been doing a lot of...winging it. Now, don't get me wrong, it's all worked out some kind of way but still-"

 

"Plans breed routine and routines give you comfort." She yawned on that statement and blinked lazily, but she wouldn't close her eyes just yet. Stubborn woman. She slept when she wanted and not anytime sooner.

 

"You know me entirely too well," he mumbled, though there wasn't any complaint in that. It was a little scary how well she did know him after so short a time, but he wouldn't change that for anything. It was rare to find anyone who could take the scariest parts of him and break them down so they weren't so unmanageable.

 

"I do." There was no smugness in Agatha's voice, just matter-of-factness and it made him smile. Agatha was never smug about anything, but that was mostly because she was almost always right about everything and didn't have to be. Of course, it didn't make her arrogant in the slightest. She was humble and down to earth, but she knew what she knew and that was that.

 

He wondered, as he pulled her closer to him, if he was in love with her or not yet. He hated to jump into things like this, reasons being why his relationship with Nat had been so slow moving and cautious. A spark of guilt flared up in his gut at the thought; if she still held on to him in some way, was this a betrayal.

 

"You're overthinking again, dear one," Agatha said with another yawn, this one wider than the first. She'd be asleep within minutes if she could just get settled and be still.

 

"I do that a lot, huh?"

 

"Mmhm. I'd take your mind off of whatever it is that's eating at you but-"

 

"Maybe in the morning?"

 

There was a pause, and then a little breathy laugh that made him feel warm and cozy. He loved her laughs, the way her skin warmed his when they lay next to each other like this at night. Beautiful Agatha...Bruce wondered what he'd done to deserve something this right, and it scared him that it could be gone in a flash.

 

"You can't plan _want_ , Bruce," she said, and then she was in her comfortable spot, right on top of his chest where she liked to listen to his heart beating. Once, after a orgasm that had left him breathless and half blind, they'd discovered that their heartbeats pitterpattered in opposite time. It made a lovely little thumping beat, when everything was quiet and he was the only one still awake.

 

"But," she continued, stretching out one final time and sighing blissfully. "Wake me if you just so happen to want me. I'm sure I'll be willing."

 

She was out like a light right after that and so Bruce stretched over to turn off the lamp light, settled back into the plush pillows to try and get some shut eye. Agatha's long hair draped over her shoulder in a plush braid, and he smoothed it back from her face, watching her breath for a moment as she slept. He committed this to memory, just in case. And he closed his eyes, waiting for the first few tendrils of slumber to reach out toward his consciousness.

 

He had a feeling he wouldn't have to _plan_ on wanting her when he woke up and the thought of that made him grin.

* * *

 

 

"It's funny," Siriana says, leaning against the pillar of his four post bed. "All you have to do is look at me and I feel like a girl again."

 

Heimdall laughed, reaching out to slip his fingers between Siri's slender ones. He thought to a time once, long ago, when he'd confessed that he hadn't been able to get her off his mind and needed to see her again and had done the same. She was betrothed then, completely unavailable and out of his league and yet, she'd wanted him just the same.

 

And now, it seemed, perhaps the fates had given him a second chance with his first and only love.

 

Siriana Magnusdottir had been the most beautiful thing he'd seen when he'd met her. Long, tall, and fire haired with a smile that could brighten up the darkest night and eyes like sapphires. And in the few centuries he could call her his, that love had expanded beyond just her physical beauty, but also her beautiful heart. She was generous and loving and kind, fun, feisty, adventurous and spirited. The two of them had planned out a future full of exploring the cosmos; they'd take off with Davna when her five centuries were up and see everything there was to see.

 

But then he'd been called, a fluke based soley on the fact that he was now the last remaining descendent of the first of Asgard's watchers. His mother had said there was a possibility all his life, but he had cousins closer in blood to the first who could do the job and they'd been preparing for this, while he had a life of relative freedom, raised in the bosom of Valkyries and warrior women and pirates. His mother's wife had been a sister; his surrogate aunts and sisters and cousins all were of the same stock, and he had best friends and lovers from the ranks of Bestla's best shield maidens. He could still remember Frigga Fjorgnsdottir before she ascended to Queen, golden haired and mischief personified, who'd brought him back a book of raunchy poetry from her time past the Realms. That friendship had remained steadfast until her last, and he had quietly mourned the woman he considered another sister, in everything but name.

 

All these wonderful women had shaped who he was. But none of them had burrowed their way into his soul the way Siriana had.

 

"It's interesting that you say that," he said after a time. "All this time, and it's as if you still are the girl I rescued from the well and ran off to marry."

 

She laughed then, crawling over from the bed to wrap her arms about him. There was a hesitancy in him when she leaned in for a kiss; though he knew her marriage to Rolf had run its course years before it's actual dissolution (that was now in the process of taking place), he also respected those bonds and didn't want to appear as though he'd been waiting in the wings for something to happen.

 

Never mind that maybe he had somewhat been waiting. He'd spent years of service to the crown and little inklings of discontent drifting along in his rare, indulgent peaks at Siri's life. It was nothing untoward, simply a desire to know that she was okay, that she was healthy and happy. He told her as such, and she had done nothing but chuckle, though the blush on her throat and cheeks betrayed her true feelings. The fact that he'd still he'd still held a flame for her after all this time...

 

"As far as I'm concerned, Rolf is dead," Siri said just then, a little fiercely, and there was a glimpse of the wild girl he'd met as a young man. "So you can kiss me." She smiled against his lips when he unconsciously leaned in, and brushed his mouth across her hers. "Only if you want to, Heim. I wouldn't dare tell you not to-"

 

He cut her off with a kiss, slow and deep and tender and it was as if he'd awoken something in him long sleeping and dormant. His arms wrapped around her tiny waist, tugging her into his lap and she pushed her body against his, whimpering a little when his big hand cradled the back of her neck. Soft hands came up to guide his kisses, down her chin and to her neck, and she moaned a little at the contact.

 

"You're still really, really good at this," she gasps and he laughs richly, though it turns into a groan when she grinds her bottom against him. Siri tugs at his locs and pulls his face back to look at her, her mouth swollen with his kiss and her face flushed.

 

"Second thoughts?" he asks, hoping she'll say no, though he'd understand if she was. There's the whole propriety thing; even in the event of divorce, it was a little uncouth to jump from one man's bed to another. It didn't really matter that Siri had only been married in name for the last few years. It was the principle of the matter. And there was the issue of Elin, as well, something Heimdall could understand though his own conflict had happened centuries past.

 

No matter how rotten Rolf had been, no one could really replace her father, the same way no one had ever really replaced his. Even though the women who raised him had more than made up for the loss, it had been quite the adjustment and Elin was a sensitive, impressionable young girl. He didn't want to step on any toes or try to fill any shoes she didn't want him to.

 

"No," Siri said decidedly. "Just...are you sure you want this? We can always wait."

 

He thinks for a moment if it's prudent to pursue anything with a not yet divorced woman, and every sensible part of him says it isn't. But he's never stopped loving her, never will. He holds her close to him and sighs and glances up to her, spectacles smudged and a little foggy from earlier and smiles.

 

"I want you so badly, I can taste you," he grumbles, and he hears her breath intake sharply. That makes him grin. "It's all up to you, sweet Siri. Whatever you decide."

 

Siriana smiles and leans in close to him, nuzzling her nose against his.

 

"I say we'll take it slow," she finally says, and he nods, prepares to let her go back to her own room for the night. Instead, she unlaces the front of her tunic, revealing inch after inch of creamy skin. "At least as far as this whole romance thing goes."

 

" _This_ is taking it slow?"

 

Her laugh stirs his blood to boiling and he lets her rid him of his shirt.

 

"This is getting what I've craved for years, actually. We'll figure the rest out later."

 

"Elin won't mind, I imagine?"

 

Siri shrugs, and wiggles out of her soft leather pants. "She practically told me to come see you tonight. Or, at least she hinted at it. I didn't think she even knew about us-"

 

She's cut off with a squeak when his hands grasp and grip at her naked flesh. "Norns, that feels good," she purrs, sighing happily when he flips her over and settles between her thighs.

 

"Children are remarkably observant," he murmurs, and suckles some of her skin into his mouth.

 

"Mmm. Remarkably. Alas, my baby girl won't be a child for much longer...though if you truly want to take this further than a few nights together, for old times sake, we'll have to...to...hmmm."

 

"Shhh," he whispers, sliding his hands between her legs, down to her heated core and she moans, low and deep, just like he remembered. "We'll sort all that out later."

 

Outside the hall of his room, Elin giggles as she passes the door and runs down the stairs, sliding across the marbled floor as she runs out into the Umbreon night toward the camp and her new friends.

* * *

 

 

It's warm and cozy in the luxury cabin in the hills of Umbreon.

 

Loki sits at the desk next to the bed, a book in hand and his feet propped up on the edge. It's the first time in three days that he's had anything on, the first time he's been out of bed except to get more food and use the toilets. His bath earlier had been absolutely blissful, the collection of soaps spread out across the tub fine and indulgent. At the moment, his wife was enjoying her own bath, singing loudly as she did so. It was some bawdy shanty he'd never heard that made him laugh, and every so often she'd pause for a bit just to hear if he had.

 

Happy was no longer a word now. It was a concrete thing. He'd been happy for these past three days, happy and loved and sated and completely blissed and in the morning, they'd be leaving the trading moon, heading toward an unknown future on Midgard.

 

Of course, the very real threat that loomed behind him terrified him but he managed to push it far, far back to the corners of his mind, along with the grief of losing his home, the memories of torture at the hands of Thanos, the loss of both his parents. He didn't want anything to spoil his little honeymoon, if one could call it that, and so he'd fought with his mind to give him just a little break, if only for the last few days he had Hilde all to himself.

 

After tonight, she'd belong to Asgard the same way he and Thor did. He'd known this was the consequence of making her his Princess, but the reality of it sobered him, as did his expectations of what was to come. If he was right about what he thought would happen, he'd have to act quickly and make sure things were set in place to take care of his people and family.

 

There was the barest smidgen of hope that none of what he thought would happen would ever come to fruition, but hope was a fickle and sometimes fruitless thing. Preparation, no matter how shallow, wasn't.

 

It had been a simple enough matter of convincing Hilde to relinquish her wedding ring while at the hot springs outside the cabin; he'd made it a convincing argument that that ring was one of a kind and he didn't want her losing it while she soaked and possibly blaming him for it. Reluctantly, she'd slid it off her finger and it warmed him a bit to see her pout while staring at her bare hand, but there was more to it than simply preventing a loss.

 

The spell he needed to imbue the ring with had been difficult, to say the least, and he'd had to work fast to keep Hilde from finding out what he was doing. He was sure if he even brought this whole business up, she'd go into hardcore protective mode. It made his heart swell to think that she wanted to protect him, but she couldn't. Not on this. If anything, he'd need to protect her. And so he'd kept all of this to himself, passing off his fatigue after the spell as residuals from their strenuous love making.

 

And really, he hadn't been quite lying about that.

 

The singing in the bathroom had stopped and the door opened, peals of steam following his wife before disappearing into the cooler air of the bedroom. Hilde walked to bed while towel drying her hair, bare and damp and absolutely beautiful. He loved how unashamed of her body she was, how she had no problem at all walking about the cabin completely nude. And though they'd had their share of each other over and over the last three days, he found his want for her was insatiable.

 

Even still, there was quite a bit on his mind at the moment. His eyes went to the brilliant blue and green ring she wore, right next to a simple silver band and he twisted his own ring as he watched her prepare for bed.

 

"You're awfully quiet for someone who's done nothing but talk since we've been here," she said with a gentle smile, and he knew she could tell he was really thinking.

 

"Just thinking," he said, beckoning her to him when she slipped on one of his tunics and had brushed out her hair. She slid into his lap, just as he put away his book, and he wrapped an arm about her waist, kissed a little trail down the back of her neck.

 

"About what?" She turned just as his mouth went to her neck and he got lips full of collarbone instead. She sighed, completely content.

 

"Midgard."

 

That wasn't exactly a lie; Midgard, if he even made it that far, was on his brain as well. He wasn't quite sure if going there was a good idea, at least for himself. He knew Thor and the Aesir would all be protected and welcomed, though he was sure there were some unpleasant repercussions for himself.

 

"I trust your judgement on the matter," Hilde said, pulling some of her hair around to braid. "If you think it's a smart decision, well..what do we really have to worry about?"

 

"It's less my decision and moreso Thor's," he clarifies. "I'd sooner rather stay here on Umbreon or wander off to elsewhere, but I don't imagine I have many choices left."

 

She raises a brow, and pauses her braiding. "Is it really that bad? I've heard of people doing worse and not suffering many consequences for it." She snorts, and then thanks him with a kiss when he pulls out a tie from the air for her to wrap her braid. "I've done things on Sakaar that would have gotten me executed in most other places. And you couldn't pay me to go back, but if I had to, well...I'd do it."

 

She grimaced at that. There were too many conflicting emotions involved where it came to Sakaar and how she got there and how she left.

 

"Midgard works on a completely different set of rules than Sakaar. Or Vanaheim. Or even home did. And I imagine that if someone tried coming to us and conquering us even under the guise of civility and geniality-"

 

"Uh huh. So you're saying the approach was pretty fucked and now you are because humans don't like being told they need to serve someone."

 

"Exactly."

 

"Can you really blame them, though?"

 

He rolled his eyes and sighed. "I can, actually, since they've done a piss poor job of ruling themselves. But none of that really matters now, does it? I've got my hands full already." He squeezes her hips for emphasis and nips at the skin of her throat.

 

"You don't seem too fond of them," she continues, and finishes her other braid. "I mean, I've always got the impression that they were just like us. Just not nearly as hardy."

 

He's reminded of the few he had more intimate dealings with and shrugs. "There's outliers, I'm sure. I'm simply not that fond of them as a whole. Granted, they aren't fond of me either, so it's mutual."

 

"But that's your fault. They love Thor."

 

"Everyone loves Thor," he grumbles, and his mood sours a bit but then Hilde spins around in his lap, straddling him now, and makes her look at him.

 

"Nope. What we're not going to do is wallow in the shadow of Thor. You'd think you'd have grown out of that already."

 

He glares at her but he can't really argue. He wishes he had. It's one of the things he wishes he could magically get over, but, he knows that like with everything else that is fucked about him, it's something that will take time and effort.

 

"I mean, look at it this way; I didn't like Thor when I first met him."

 

"You didn't?"

 

She laughs and leans in, pressing a kiss to his brow. It soothes him a little bit.

 

"Nope. He annoyed the shit out of me. I mean, he's good with me now, but trust me, I spent the first day or so trying to shock him in to subjugation just because he irritated me so damn much. He grew on me."

 

Loki chuckles at that, but then he remembers when they first met and he blushes. He remembers being completely entranced by her, so much so that he'd been a bit of a jerk when he hadn't really wanted to be.

 

"Uh huh. Yeah, I didn't like you much either," she says, effectively reading his mind. "But here's a secret," she continues, and she wraps her arms around his shoulders, pulls his face close to hers.

 

"A _secret_? Do tell, I keep secrets better than most."

 

"Hmmm, you can't tell anyone, you understand? This is confidential, under pain of death type of secret."

 

"Of course, my love, of course."

 

She smiles then, this time almost predatory so that he has to suck in a breath to keep from whimpering. He'd have thought he was more than sated when it came to sex, but as it were, he was growing harder the longer she straddled his lap.

 

"You were standing by the Grandmaster with one of those purple little drinks in your hand. And you had those tight ass leathers on and this really nice cape and you had your nails painted-"

 

"Oh gods, yes, he wanted them blue. To match his makeup, indulgent fucker."

 

"Uh huh. And that's how I knew you were his little flavor of the week. Or however long, I don't know, it varies."

 

"Definitely."

 

"Anyway, I was intrigued, if not a little put off because you were so...arrogant. But then you looked at me, do you remember? When he saw me and called me over and introduced us...which he's never done, by the way. And I remember thinking that if I had the absolute audacity, I'd have broke into your room that night and rode your face into oblivion."

 

He can't help how he grins while she tells him this, as she's grinding her bottom into his lap. He's hard as a rock now and itching to dig his hands into her hips, to hitch the tunic up and push inside her tight, hot, wetness. His hands slip under the hem and he's delighted to find she's not wearing any underwear, as usual.

 

"Why didn't you? I'd have welcomed it, that's for sure." The moment he'd seen the rough and tumble woman with brown eyes and a killer smirk, he'd wanted to bury his face in her cunt.

 

"Because you were his, and I had a girlfriend."

 

"Oh."

 

"I mean, I've tried my best to be faithful to all my partners, you know. I've only ever cheated one time and technically it doesn't count. We were on a break."

 

"Definitely not cheating," he concurs, slipping his hands up further, until he's stroking the skin of her ribcage. Hilde shuffles a bit to the side and reaches down, tugs on his sleeping pants and pulls his cock free. She wastes no time in leading him where she wants him; Hilde slides down with low groan, her head falling back and her eyes closing momentarily.

 

"That _never_ gets old," she breathes out and he can only nod in agreement. He presses his head to her shoulder and gasps when she lifts up, wiggles around a bit, and slides back down again. "Ever. Never ever ever...gods, Lackey, _move_ with me."

 

"Only if you're done telling me your secret."

 

She scoffs, clenches around him pointedly and giggles a bit when he lets out a cry of pleasure.

 

"Oh I'm done. Now hush up and make me cum."

* * *

 

It's remarkably quiet in the big, near empty house.

 

He likes the noise, the commotion, the back and forth of people and commerce and things. It's why he liked living on Umbreon so much; there was always something going on and something (and someone) to do. And when the busy trading moon wasn't enough adventure, he loaded his little ship and set sail for someplace else amongst the stars to cause a bit of trouble, a bit of mischief.

 

So it surprises Veelan that enjoys how silent it is. It's early yet, too early to rouse anyone and the three day party celebrating his cousin's marriage had wound down. They'd all be leaving within the next few hours and the thought of that somehow made him sad. It wasn't as if he wasn't used to people coming and going in and out of his life, but with the very reality that there was no longer an Asgard there as a backup plan, he found himself dreading the prospect of once again being alone.

 

And he didn't want to lose the only family he had left now.

 

While the love he'd had for Loki had been something entirely different, he'd always held an acute fondness for Thor. He'd been a rowdy, rambunctious but good hearted boy when they'd met and Veelan had enjoyed playing the part of older and wiser cousin. He knew, as sure as he did anything, that one day Thor would be a good king. It may have meant that some of the kinks needed to be ironed out, but he was certain that when he matured, the older Odinson would surpass even the Allfather in his goodness and wisdom.

 

Of course, that had been before he'd found out, via his uncle, all the dirty little secrets Uncle Odin had gotten up to before his birth. It had soured his opinion of the man, and when he'd approached Veelan with the chance at legitimization, he'd scoffed at the idea. Besides, he hadn't wanted much to do with Vili Borson, either, a man he'd never met and who hadn't bothered to ask after the child he'd gotten on the kitchen maid, mere weeks before his wedding. And it especially grated on his nerves that even at the behest of Odin, Vili had ignored his son, claiming that Veelan's mother had been a liar.

 

Myrna had been many a thing in her effort to make a living for herself and her young son, but a liar she was not.

 

He'd never regretted his decision. He had a freedom most couldn't claim and still had the friendship of both the princes of Asgard. Well, now the prince and the king. And, he hoped with a sly smile, the princess.

 

That was something that had taken him completely by surprise. Veelan hadn't really been picky in his amorous activities, notorious among the nine and several other parts of the universe as being an absolute whoremonger. He wore the label, the same as he did with most of his other unsavory titles, with pride. And it hadn't really done anything to affect his personal life; his mother, rest her soul, hadn't cared a whit so long as he didn't spread his seed from here to yonder without care to the lives of those children or their mothers. He, of course, had agreed and had taken every precaution necessary to ensure that nothing came of his numerous dalliances.

 

And Norns, were they numerous. He'd lost count about three hundred years back.

 

So while it came as no surprise that he'd be attracted (almost to the point of distraction) to the lady Valkyrie, he hadn't really expected it to go much deeper than wanting a shag or four if given the chance. He wasn't sure how the relationship with Loki and Brunnhilde was set up, if there were boundaries they had yet to discuss or if it was one big open gate of whomever took their fancy. He only knew the marriage wasn't political and that his young cousin had gotten incredibly, insanely lucky in love.

 

He was damned near jealous.

 

Veelan leaned against the doorframe of the courtyard and watched the torchlights flicker, felt the breeze drifting about him, could smell the dust of the moonrock in the distance. Umbreon had been home for as long as he could remember.

 

But mayhaps it was time for a change. Maybe he could find home someplace else. Maybe home wasn't where he was, but who he was with.

 

He'd give it a little more thought.

 

He pushed away from the doorframe with a wistful sigh and strolled to the still dark kitchens, their cupboards bare of just about everything but a little bread and cheese. The servants were gone, the cook off to her retirement in the hills, and the furniture sold and auctioned off. There wasn't much left to the house but the bare bones, and soon, it would be in the hands of another, probably some new money upstart looking to make a name for themselves in the bougie high society of Umbreon.

 

It was nothing Veelan wanted a part of. For the first time in his life he wanted something a little more substantial, stable. He wanted a house and gang of children and maybe a husband or a wife or even both, if he thought he could manage it.

 

Perhaps, he mused, as he sliced a bit of cheese off, spread it on his thick bread, and took a large bite, he might actually get what he wanted this time.

 

Swinging a dagger round about his finger, he whistled softly as he walked through the dark house, and made up his mind to let young Arick know that there'd be a little change in plans.

 

 


	27. xxiv

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Aesir take off from Umbreon and into an exciting but uncertain future; Loki and Hilde name their kitten; the Odinson brothers face a dangerous threat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this story, please comment and buy me a coffee if you're so inclined. Ko-fi.com/lilithenaltum.

Loki stretched out on the great big bed and stared at the ceiling, his wife still sleeping deeply beside him.

 

Only a few hours remained of their little honeymoon. Though he loathed the idea of leaving the cabin so soon, he knew that the sooner they got started for Midgard, the sooner the Aesir would all be settled and the sooner he could truly start his life with Hilde. That thought brought a smile to his face and he turned over to snuggle into her hair.

 

His motions wake her and she turns over to him with a smile, pressing a chase kiss to his cheek.

 

"Mornin', you. Ready to go?" He shakes his head and sighs and she flops over to stretch out across his bare chest.

 

"Neither am I. I could stay here forever. It's so nice."

 

She rubs her cheek on his skin and traces little circles and patterns across his shoulders and collarbone, humming something soft and lovely. It sounds like a lullaby but not one he's ever heard. When she props her head up to ask him what he's thinking of, he tells her honestly.

 

"The future, of course. For the first time in quite some time...I find that I'm looking forward to it."

 

"Would I have anything to do with that?" she asks, teasing, and he laughs, kissing her lips.

 

"Mmmhm. Quite a lot. But truly, it finally feels like I have some sort of purpose, a mission in life." He pauses to gather his thoughts and feels like he's telling the honest truth when he continues. "It feels nice. I have something to live for."

 

Hilde's smile is gentle and understanding, and she nods in agreement. "I know how that feels. It's been so long since I've felt that way and well, I'm quite looking forward to what lies ahead." She rolls over and sits up from the bed, rolling her shoulders and smoothing down her messy hair.

 

"And I'm anticipating this whole princess thing."

 

"Just the princess part?" Loki asks, a teasing note in his voice. "I'd have thought you'd be excited about the wife part." Hilde snorts and bats at his hands, that reach for her waist.

 

"Quit it, love, I need to dress." There's a hint of laughter there and he settles for asking to braid her hair. "Fine. But tell me more about what you're thinking on. You know, that's part of the whole marriage thing. We've got to share our thoughts and emotions and all that."

 

Loki chuckles but confesses that while he's looking forward to what comes next, he isn't sure what kind of future he'll have.

 

“You can have whatever future you wish,” Hilde says, tilting her head back so he can reach the crown of her head. He parts her hair into three large sections and starts braiding down the left side first.

 

“Somehow I feel as though that doesn’t apply to someone like me,” he protests, but Hilde scoffs.

 

“Uh, no. I mean, yeah, you’ve done some dumb shit over the years-“

 

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

 

“-but there’s always the chance you can start over and try for better. You may have to make atonement for what you’ve done, or pay a price, but that doesn’t mean you have to wallow in self hate for the rest of your life over your past.” She pauses and turns her head to glance at him, and he knows she’s thinking of herself and her own bitter past. He wonders what she’s done in the centuries before he’d been born that would compare to the kind of things he’s done.

 

“I’m just saying this: if you want to change, you can. You _have_ changed. Or so Thor tells me, I mean, I wasn’t there when you were trying to overthrow the throne and conquer an entire planet so I don’t really know. I just know I like you a whole lot better today than I did when I met you.”

 

He smiles at that. If it means that he’d have to face the wrath of every entity on Earth to have his Hilde’s approval, he’d be able to face it no matter the cost.

 

So long as it wasn’t his life, he’d be able to face whatever was thrown his way. He finally had something worth living for and he’d be damned if anyone took that from him. Hilde’s words in the ballroom came to mind and he made a solemn promise to himself that he’d do whatever it took to survive, for her sake especially. And, he thinks, as he takes a silver tie and wounds it about the bottom of her braid, perhaps that was what the point of life really was. Maybe all he needed was someone and something to live for.

 

He finishes her hair as she talks of her future plans for the Valkyrior. She’s got it in mind to promote Hertha as captain since she’d be taking on the mantle of princess and wouldn’t have much time to finish training the girls thoroughly.

 

“I mean, I’d be there to help of course. And I suppose I’m still the master of arms on the council.”

 

“As far as I’m aware, Thor has absolutely no intention of giving your position to anyone else, unless of course, you requested it.”

 

She shakes her head and stretches as she stands, yawning once more and he’s reminded of how early it still is. One more hour to go and they’d be down the hill and at the manor to meet the convoy.

 

“No plans of doing that anytime soon. I quite like my job. It’s not nearly as exciting as the previous, but definitely more rewarding.” She grins. “And a little less dangerous. Besides, it’s kind of neat being the first princess in Asgard’s history to serve as master.”

 

“Not the first to be a Valkyrie, though?”

 

She shakes her head as she quickly dresses. “Not at all. I’m pretty sure your great-uncle’s first wife was a Valkyrie before she married, though technically, I think she only took on the title of duchess. All of that was before my time; I can’t really be sure. It’s hearsay. For what it’s worth, though, I’m not a former Valkyrie. I haven’t retired just yet, nor do I ever plan on it.”

 

“Ah…so you’re breaking all kinds of grounds then,” Loki says with a teasing smile, and he holds out a hand for her to take, pressing his lips to her fingers. “You’re the first to have married and kept to the order, too.”

 

Hilde shrugs as if it’s no big deal, but he can see how proud she is of that fact, if not a little saddened as well. Had this been the old days and the Fall not happened, she’d have had to give up her sword to marry him. He was glad she wouldn’t now; being a Valkyrie was an important part of who she was.

 

“You know,” she continues, sitting in bed to tug on her boots, “I wouldn’t be surprised if your mother had something to do with the order, too.” Loki raises a brow at that and then glances to the grimoire on the desk.

 

“Did you read something in the diary that suggests it?” The thought of his mother being a former Valkyrie stirred an excitement in him. He gets up to throw on his leathers, left out from their packing the night before.

 

She shakes her head but there’s a wry smile on her face and Loki knows there’s something in his mother’s journals that he’ll find quite interesting once he gets to it. He hasn’t had the opportunity to read through them the way he’s wanted, but he figures he’ll have the time en route to Earth.

 

“I won’t say I read anything, but when you’re old as I, you master the art of reading between lines. And anyway, I don’t think that’s the only journal that she’s got. There are parts to it that sound…incomplete, for lack of a better term.”

 

He agrees with that. And so far, searching through the other books had proved unfruitful. He hated to think that maybe those missing pages or books had gone up in flames with the rest of her library. Perhaps there’s a clue in the actual journal he has; he’ll have to do a little investigating.

 

“We’ll dig into it when we get back on the ship. And maybe I’ll teach you how to work that crown of yours,” he adds, watching her face light up at the thought of using more seidr.

 

By the time they leave the cozy little cabin in the hills, he finds he’s actually looking forward the future, his wife by his side and promise of happy days to come.

 

If only he could shake the niggling trickle of doubt in the back of his mind.

 

* * *

* * *

 

"Do we have everything?" Hilde heard amongst the rumble of voices and the roar of speeder engines and buses. It sounded a lot like Siri, though she couldn't be sure in the fray.

 

Only two hours more and they'd be boarding the Ark once again. There was an odd feeling nestled deep in her belly while she waited, patiently, for the camp to finish packing and for the signal to get into the caravan started. She couldn't name what it was, only that it was uncomfortable and made her nervous. But perhaps it was just the idea of launching forth into the unknown. Though they had a broad plan on what to do once they landed on Midgard, there hadn't been any concrete decisions made. And, once again, they'd be at the mercy of other people.

 

At least this time, these people would be friends of Thor. That should have comforted her a bit more...but it didn't.

 

Hilde kept her feelings tight within, not wanting to stress out either her brother in law nor her husband, as the two of them were pulled in every which way. Thor was busy trying to make sure that all the supplies they'd been promised would be delivered, and had sent Arick and Heimdall on ahead to supervise. Loki was ordering people into groups for the ride to the ship; they'd picked up at least twenty extra people, some servants of the ambassadorship who wanted a new start. There was a terse moment early that morning when the prince realized his manifest would increase enough to throw rations and supplies off, though the king had argued that it wouldn't be by much.

 

And while the two had stared each other down, fists clenched and teeth barred, Brunnhilde had buttered up a merchant's wife whom she'd made friends with at the ball, convincing her that sparring a few pounds here and a couple tons more of her husbands merchandise wouldn't hurt. There was a simple nod and the unspoken promise of those things; by the time Heimdall and Arick hopped on the speeder toward town, she had more than enough supplies to last till Midgard and perhaps beyond.

 

She didn't say a word to Loki. He'd find out when he did his tally that night. She smiled faintly at the thought. Only three days and she was already acclimating well to being a princess.

 

Sort of.

 

There was still the whole business of how to stand, and where to stand, and whom to greet and how. She needed a crash course in royal diplomacy and court etiquette and the only available resources she had were the stressed out Odinson brothers and perhaps Agatha, who'd been at court long enough to pick up on the details. Siri would be a bit of help, she knew, and Thor gave her the quiet promise to ask the Lady Sif to assist her when they got to their destination, but she still felt as though she was feeling along this whole journey blind.

 

She wondered if maybe she'd find something in Frigga's journals; she'd ask Loki later if she could give them a read over. Maybe it'd be something they could do together, something to take a little of his stress off.

 

There was someone calling her name and she turned towards Bruce, who lugged out luggage and huffed whenever someone insisted on taking it from him.

 

"No, no you don't have to-wait, that's _my_ bag, I need that with me!"

 

He stood helpless in the middle of the swarms of people and threw his hands up, dragging his hands through his hair. His glasses perched helplessly on his face, a bit askew and Hilde reached up to adjust them with a chuckle.

 

"You alright, Bruce?"

 

He shrugged. "People won't leave my stuff alone. I don't understand why anyone needs to handle my luggage when I'm perfectly capable-HEY, be gentle with that, okay?!" He blew out a breath and graced Hilde with a quick, strained smile. "What a day. What. A. Day. How are you, I'm sitting here being rude and haven't asked yet."

 

She laughed and slipped an arm in his, pulling him closer toward the speeders and away from the people loading bags and luggage.

 

"I'm fine. Mostly. A little wound up, but aren't we all?"

 

He nods. "I'd say. You know, you'd think I'd be excited to be getting back home and I guess I am."

 

"Hmm."

 

"But I...I don't know. I kinda like roaming space with everyone like this. It's fun. And honestly, what's gonna happen when we get there?"

 

Hilde shook her head. "I wish I could tell you. I don't think any of us really know. We're all just throwing things out and hoping they stick and so far, they sort of have."

 

"Yeah, I tried telling Aggie about that last night, but she was insistant that I was overthinking..."

 

"You do overthink, buddy."

 

"I won't argue that point," he tells her, his grin finally reaching his eyes. "But there's stuff you gotta plan for, you can't just launch forth out into the deep and cross your fingers that things go your way. Hell, I tried telling her that this morning but, well..."

 

He trails off and a slight blush crosses his face and Hilde snorts in laughter, patting him on the back.

 

"How's that going, by the way?" She hadn't had much chance to talk to Agatha nor Bruce in the last few days and was nosy about how their love affair was coming along.

 

Bruce faltered for a moment but then began to tell her his feelings about Agatha, about how much he admired and respected and liked her. "We have a lot in common. Like, a lot. And to her, it doesn't matter that I'm a ticking time bomb ready to go off if I get too pissed. She likes me anyhow."

 

"I feel like Aggie has dealt with a lot worse than the big guy," Hilde mentions and it warms her to see him smile, glancing toward the healer who had volunteered to help Loki with organizing the refugees. "She's a seasoned vet."

 

"Oh yeah, some of the stuff she's had to have seen would probably give me nightmares. I mean, she helped raised Loki and Thor. She's made of strong stuff." There was so much pride in his voice that it made Hilde laugh again. And, she found, as she talked to Bruce more and more about Agatha, her nerves calmed enough that she nearly forgot what she was worried about.

 

Within the hour, it was time to finally go. Buses were loaded in double lines and speeders were waiting, and she boarded hers eagerly, sitting beside Siriana who chatted with Ardressa animatedly.

 

"You'll have to send me a transmission, sweet girl," the older woman was saying, tears in her eyes. "I'm going to miss you so dearly! And you know, when Beren finally decides he wants to retire, maybe we'll find our way to Midgard. I've never been, you know. I've always wanted to see it."

 

"You really aren't missing much," Loki says as he walks up, though there is a jest in his voice, and he leans over to Ardressa, placing a kiss to her cheek.

 

"Thank you so much for your hospitality and help," he says gently, and she smiles, wiping at her eyes and nodding.

 

"But of course! And you too, my boy. You write me as well. You and that lovely new bride of yours." Ardressa reaches out and grasps Hilde's hand and squeezes it tightly, a little cry leaving her throat as she starts to cry again. Loki and Hilde share a look before he's called away by Beren.

 

"Is she always that emotional?" Hilde asks Siri, when Ardressa moves on to say goodbye to Thor.

 

Siri smiles indulgently and nods. "She is. Darling woman, really, though occasionally she can be quite dramatic. I wouldn't trade having her as a friend for the world, though. She's one of the most genuine people I've known." She nudges Hilde playfully and grins a little wider. "Besides you, of course."

 

"Besides me," Hilde concurs, laughing as she did.

 

She turns around to look back at the darkened, empty house and thinks over the week she'd spent here; so much had happened and so much had changed and she had so much to do and plan and look forward to now. It was almost overwhelming, but before she could dwell on that, she was tapped on the shoulder by Ardressa, once more. Behind her, a tall plain woman held a bundle in her arms.

 

"I almost forgot, Princess," she says, her tears mostly dried up and her face focused. "Beren says it's an old Aesir tradition to give the bride a gift after her wedding, for protection. I don't know if they do that anymore, but my daughter's cat had kittens a while back, and she's looking for a home for some of them so-"

 

Ardressa takes the bundle from the woman behind her, a servant no doubt, and plops it in Hilde's lap. For a moment, there isn't any movement and all Hilde can feel is warmth and a slight weight. When she pulls the blanket back, however, she's greeted to the sight of ice blue eyes and grey and white fur, the softest kind she's ever felt. The cat is still for a few moments, only blinking up at her new mistress with a curious expression. And then the cat nuzzles Hilde's hand, arching her back before shaking free of the blanket and meowing to be held.

 

Hilde opens her mouth to say something, anything, about how she doesn't need a cat (and how that old tradition had probably died out before her parents were even born) but Ardressa is already turned away and headed back to the speeder with her husband and servant and so she's left with the loudly meowing cat and a bewildered expression on her face, while Siriana shakes with laughter beside her.

 

* * *

 

It took another four hours, after they finally boarded the ship, to take off.

 

Hilde watched from the observation deck as they pulled away, the black rock and dark skies of Umbreon slowly getting smaller and smaller. In another hour's time, when the people had resettled and a light lunch was served, there'd be a quick assembly here in the throne room and then...then, she'd finally get to slide into bed and catch a much needed nap.

 

Moving all her things from her rooms to Loki's had been easy; in the hours they spent while the Ark was fueled up and stocked, she hauled clothes and shoes from one room to the other down the hall. Siri and Elin would be taking her old room, as Lir had decided to move back in with her mother. Hertha's rooms were only a few doors down as opposed to another corridor so it would be easier for the two to see more of the other.

 

The extra passengers required a little bit of reshuffling as far as rooming went, but that seemed to work out without much of a problem, and the Aesir and Sakaarians all moved about excitedly, helping the new faces get acquainted with the giant ship, offering assistance if it was needed. For a while, Hilde felt that everything would work out just fine and she freshened up before the assembly.

 

Lunch ran a little late, but it was no issue. The cooks and their helpers all passed out sandwiches and fruit while the throne room filled, bit by bit. Hilde took her place on the dais beside her husband and next to Heimdall, relieved to see that Loki had left the cat behind. "I could have sworn you'd bring her with you," she quipped and he gave her a cheeky smirk.

 

"I thought of it, honestly," he whispered, and she rolled her eyes though she couldn't help but be amused. Loki had fallen in love with that cat the instant he'd picked her up.

 

"Have you figured out a name yet?" she asked, but before he could give her an answer, Thor was calling for their attention.

 

"I'll try to make this quick," he said by way of introduction, "simply because I'm famished and everyone is tired and probably still getting resorted." He clears his throat and folds his hands in front of him, and flashes the crowd a brilliant smile. Hilde is struck by how kingly he looks, in the red cape and leathers, the patch on his eye, the confident grin. He's going to be a great king, she thinks. He's already a great one. And she straightens her back a bit, a smile coming to her lips as she listens to Thor's short speech.

 

He commends the Aesir for being so accepting and kind to their Sakaarian friends; to them both for taking in the Umbreoneons, and he lets them know that no matter what happens from now on, that they must remember who they are and persevere.

 

"I'm not yet sure what we will have to face when we get to Earth, but I don know that no matter the circumstances, we'll make it out alright. We're strong people, and always have been. And we need to dig deep into our hearts and use that strength and kindness to adjust and prosper from here on out."

 

He stops a beat, glances to his council and then back to the crowd. "Well, if no one has any questions or anything else to say...let's eat!"

 

There's a cheerful cry and applause and then everyone sits picnic style in the throne room, enjoying their lunch and making plans for the future.

* * *

* * *

 

 

Lunch seems to take forever, but it's finally over and he has the chance to relax in his own bedroom. After such a busy day, one that wasn't even over, there wasn't much he wanted to do besides take a nap. And it looked as though he'd have the perfect opportunity to do so.

 

Hilde had taken the rest of the day to meet up with her students and reorganize the structure of their budding order. Thor was probably on the transmitter with Sif, giving her a progress update. He had seen Bruce wander off toward the training room, sword in hand, with Heimdall behind him. And he was sure that Siri and Elin were getting acquainted with the ship, while Agatha restocked the medbay with her assistants and nurses.

 

For the first time in months he was blissfully alone, save the little cat that now slept on the foot of the bed, and it was quiet, the lights low and dim, the pillows soft. He sank into bed and closed his eyes, not bothering to dress down, only slipping his boots off so he wouldn't dirty the sheets. And just as he felt his body relaxing and drifting, there was a knock at the door.

 

He groaned, sighing as he pulled himself up begrudgingly to answer. The cat seemed to mirror his reaction, meowing almost angrily at the interruption of her nap. "I know, sweet girl. And we were just getting settled, weren't we?" He thought idly that he'd need to actually name the cat, especially if he was going to actually keep her. A few names passed through his mind as he opened the door; he was a little surprised to find that it was Lir and Karsi. Loki graced them with a soft, friendly smile.

 

"Hello, girls. How can I help you?"

 

The two glanced between each other and seemed hesitant about speaking but he waved them inside and turned the lights up, offering the both of them seats at the little end table in the corner. A bouquet of flowers from the wedding sat in a crystal vase atop it, while boxes containing Hilde's unpacked clothing and wedding presents sat on the opposite end of the room, next to the armoire.

 

"We um, wanted to say hi and, uh..."

 

Lir waved her hand about and looked down at her feet, at the table, over to the cat who meowed out a curious hello. Loki realized she was looking everywhere but at him and he felt like an absolute heel because of it.

 

"And?" he urged her, and she finally lifted her eyes to his, though Karsi kept her attention elsewhere.

 

"We wanted to apologize. For uh, for what happened back when we...you know."

 

He did know. And he had an apology for her as well.

 

"I don't blame you for your actions, Lir," he says softly, dragging his ottoman over to sit at the table with the two girls. "You were doing what you felt was right at the time. Now, you didn't have all the information-"

 

"Yeah, Mistress said we were out of line."

 

"Well, yes, I agree. In a way. But truthfully, had I been in a similar position, I'd have probably done the same." _Maybe worse_ , he thought, but he kept that to himself. "I'll make you a deal. If you'll forgive me for how incredibly rude and cruel I was, then I'll forget anything ever happened."

 

Karsi finally looks up when he says this and there's that glint of mischief in her eye once again that he'd seen when he'd first met her during hide and seek. He makes a mental note to do something special for the girls, after all they'd done and seen and been through in two short months. They're all so young still and he wanted to keep the little bit of innocence they had left alive.

 

"I think that could work," the blonde girl says, quirking her mouth into a smile.

 

"So do I," Lir adds, obviously relieved to have gotten that out the way. "And I hope you don't mind, but some of the other girls are coming over to apolo-"

 

There's another knock at the door, and Loki gets up to find four more Valkyries waiting there, apprehensive but determined.

 

"May I help you?" he asks, though he already knows. And so he ushers them too into his room and grants them the same forgiveness, asking theirs in turn. Before he knows it, he's answered his door at least a dozen more times and he's got nearly the entire Valkyrior in his bedroom, all sitting on the floor or the bed, the ottoman, in laps of their sisters, and little Nonna actually perched on the end table. The cat purrs happily as she's passed back and forth between the girls, and someone, he thinks is Jorna, starts suggesting names.

 

In the meantime, he makes tea, passes out the few cups he has on hand and conjures a couple of more. They're all a little awed at how the good the tea is and how sweet the kitty is and they pass around stories and little anecdotes and even a bit of light gossip as well. Loki wiggles in between Ilsa and Alfhilde, pours himself another cup of tea, and listens with rapt interest.

 

If he'd have known how much fun a group of teenage girls could be, he'd have done this a lot sooner. And then he gets a bright idea, as the girls discuss their plans for Midgard, to make this a regular occurrence. When he brings it up, they all seem quite excited about it.

 

"Would you ladies like that? I don't claim to be the most entertaining of hosts, but I do think we've got a good thing going on here."

 

There's a murmur of agreement and Nonna grins, raising her hand in suggestion. "On Wednesdays, perhaps, at 4? We can bring snacks and maybe some extra cushions-"

 

"Oh!" Karsi says, excited, "Mama has this almond tea that I've been wanting to try. I'm sure if I tell her it's for the prince, she'll let me use it."

 

"The kind with the purple label?" Lir asks, eyes bright. "She's been saving that one for years!"

 

"If she'll allow it, I'd love to try it," Loki adds, and he looks down to find the cat back in his lap, her tail swishing back and forth as she snuggles in closer to him.

 

"Oh I'm sure she will." Karsi, snags a few cubes of sugar from the near empty bowl and drops them into a fresh cup of tea. "I mean, she's got a crush on Prince Loki bigger than Lir has-"

 

"Excuse you, I'm a taken woman!"

 

Ilsa laughs and nearly spills some of her own tea. "Uh huh, but that doesn't stop you from having a crush does it? I mean, my mama is a happily married woman and I've heard her say some really colorful stuff about the king-"

 

"Oh my god Ilsa, stop!" Karsi laughs, tossing a sugar cube her way. "That's beside the point. The point is, we'll have fancy tea and good cakes and fun gossip and..."

 

She glances around at the twenty some odd girls crowded in the prince's bedroom, at Loki with his teacup raised and a kitty purring in his lap, and she smiles so happily that it makes Loki's whole heart warm.

 

"We'll all have each other. And Elin, too, once she's joined."

 

"She's joining the order, then?" Loki asks and that's how HIlde and Hertha find them, all talking away happily and passing around bowls of sugar and cream.

 

Later, when the girls have cleared the room with a promise to come back in one week's time, she sits on the bed beside him and leans her head on his shoulder, shooting the cat in his lap an exasperated look.

 

"I really don't get why you like that thing so much."

 

"I like her," he says, stroking the soft fur, "because she likes me."

 

Hilde snorts. "I think she likes everyone. She isn't too particular about who she likes. Almost like a dog, really." He's sure she doesn't think he notices, but her face softens just a little when the cat bats a paw at her playfully.

 

"She _is_ quite loveable, isn't she, sweetheart?"

 

Hilde makes a face, but reaches out to boop the kitten's little toes, and Loki thinks he sees a hint of a smile. "Eh. She's not too bad, I guess. She'll have to make herself useful, however. That's what the tradition was all about. At least that's what Heim says."

 

"I'm sure she will. Being loveable is quite useful anyway, I would say. Isn't it, Elska?" He coos at the cat who meows in agreement and seems happy with her given name.

 

"Elska?"

 

"I thought it fit." He smiles and pulls Hilde tighter to him, so that the she's tucked under his arm and for a long, quiet minute he thinks about how perfect this moment is and how he should treasure it. He locks it away in the bank of memories he has stored that have gotten him through some of his most difficult times and yawns.

 

"Take a nap with me," he implores, pulling Hilde down to the bed with him, Elska padding over to curl up in between them.

 

"I most definitely could use one," his wife says, kicking her boots off and wrapping a blanket about her. "It's been such a busy day already."

 

"Mmm. And more to come, I'm sure."

 

Happy days, too, he hopes. Happy and busy and full of love, and with this thought on his mind, Loki finally falls into a peaceful sleep.

 

 

* * *

 

Three uneventful but full days pass before his brother calls him to talk. Loki had been anticipating this, a quick rundown of what they have in stores and maybe discussions of what would transgress once they landed. He swept down the hall after breakfast with Hilde and Elska; Thor's door was already opened, and he stood near the window, sipping a whiskey and water.

 

“You wanted to see me?”

 

Loki leaned against the doorframe and watched as his brother finished his drink.

 

“Ah, yes, come in.” There was a smile on his face and he seemed relaxed, so Loki guessed there was nothing quite pressing about this impromptu meeting. And, as he met Thor near the giant view window, he found he was correct.

 

“How was the honeymoon?”

 

Loki rolled his eyes and groaned, but gave a light laugh. “You really want the details of my honeymoon? Since when do we talk about things like that? Like…like a-“

 

“A real family?” Thor laughed then and slapped Loki on the back. “We’ve been doing so well, though! You know, with the weekly meetings and whatnot.”

 

“I thought you only did that to keep track of what we consumed on the ship.” And yet, Loki knew that perhaps Thor had been trying for something else, something more personal. He realized that he’d spent the last two months talking to his brother much more than he had in a very long time. And he’d never quite expressed his feelings about anything as freely as he had lately.

 

“You see, I only wanted you to think that. You don’t think I could go and find all that information out myself?” Thor chuckles, shaking his head. “I only wanted to talk to you. Genuinely talk. And I did. And I enjoy those talks. I figured we could have one now, without worrying about larders and tallies.”

 

“A chat.”

 

Thor’s smile softens. “A chat.”

 

And so they do talk, though haltingly, about his honeymoon. It’s a lot less awkward than he’d expected; Thor, thankfully, doesn’t ask for the nitty gritty details and Loki isn’t sure if he’d risk Hilde’s wrath telling him any of this. But the two brothers have shared so much in their centuries together that by the end of his story about the silk ties and the whipped cream, Loki is laughing freely and happily with no thought to any embarrassment.

 

There’s a lull in the conversation, one comfortable and familiar and for a blissful moment, Loki can imagine that his life really will work out as beautifully as Hilde had told him. One day, he and Thor can go back to how it was before…or maybe, he thinks with a satisfied smile, even better. They’ve both matured, both lost, both grown-and Thor was right back on Sakaar. He could be so much more. He could be the brother that Thor had longed for, the husband Hilde deserved, the true Prince of Asgard.

 

There’s still the very real issue of what will happen once they get to Migard, however.

 

“I hate to come across as doubting you-“

 

“It’s never stopped you before,” Thor quips, teasing. Loki huffs out a breath and rolls his eyes.

 

“But honestly, tell me: Do you really think it's a good idea to go back to earth?

 

"Yes, of course. People on earth love me, I'm very popular."

 

Loki shoots Thor a sideways glance and sighs, both humored and a little worried that his brother isn’t taking this seriously. He’s had five years to think about what he’d done in New York, and while he couldn’t say he necessarily regretted the actual endeavor, he could say he perhaps regretted the approach. And of course, he was wary of the consequences, but there was the odd chance that no one would really care. Humanity was fickle and so were their attention spans. The Avengers, however...perhaps not quite as fickle.

 

“Let me rephrase that,” he starts again. “Do you really think it's a good idea to bring _me_ back to earth?”

 

At this, Thor seems to ponder the question seriously, albeit briefly.

 

“Probably not, to be honest.”

 

Well, at least he wasn’t lying for comfort’s sake. And Loki had wanted honestly. But his next words ease a little of the tension and he relaxes enough to enjoy the starry scenery before him.

 

“I wouldn't worry, brother. I feel like everything's gonna work out fine.”

 

There was an assurance in Thor’s voice, one that spoke of forgiveness and redemption and Loki knows, even if there were consequences for his botched invasion, he could face them with the knowledge that he had a wife who loved him and a brother who would fight to keep him safe and alive. And really, what else could he ask for?

 

It’s while he’s mulling this over, the seemingly impossible but optimistic future, does he feel that soul crushing darkness again. It’d been a while, though not long enough, and he had hoped and prayed and hoped some more that he’d not have to feel it ever again, or at the very least, for a long while yet.

 

But when had he ever been so lucky?

 

There is pure dread and absolute fear in the pit of his stomach as the shadow overtakes the window, as the starry cosmos are blocked by something looming and massive before him. His first thought, naturally, is of Hilde while his second stumbles through the layers and layers of preparation he’d tried making for this very moment. _I was meant to have more time_ , he thinks, panicking. He doesn’t have to guess to know who’s on that ship. He doesn’t have to wonder what they’re after. His heart plummets and his blood runs cold as Thor watches the window, confused and apprehensive and he knows that there _isn’t_ any more time.

 

Swallowing back bile and stuffing down his terror, he turns to his brother and breathes in deeply, eyes wide with regret and an apology on the tip of his tongue.

 

“We’ve got to get everyone off this ship.”

 

“What do you mean, what’s going-“

 

“Now! We have to move right now! I’ve got…I’ve a plan, if you’ll help me but-“ He breaks off and sucks in oxygen so he doesn’t pass out right then and there.

 

_Breathe, Odinson. Breathe. You’ve prepared as best you can. Now is the time to right your wrongs and be the prince you were meant to be._

 

There is hesitancy in Thor’s movements for a second, but just as Loki feels he must turn and do this himself, his brother’s face hardens and he moves closer, determined.

 

“Tell me what to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is the end of "Shake Down the Stars". I want to thank everyone who has ever commented, kudos'd, or shared my fic; it means so much that you all have enjoyed this story and my thoughts and my ramblings and feelings. And I hope everyone will stick around for the sequel (as well as a few side stories and continuations as well.)
> 
> The sequel, Rend Apart the Heavens, will start sometime after I've seen Infinity War. I've got to figure out just what I plan to 'fix' and change, because I know I'm not going to be too pleased with the canon outcome. But hey, that's exactly what fic is for, isn't it?!
> 
> I love you all, and thanks for reading!
> 
> (And if you're a Valki fan, please give a few of my other fics a shot; I've got a story I'm starting between stories you may like if you're into 1930's southern gothic moonshining and bootlegging au's! It's called "The Devil's Backbone" and I'll have the first chapter up soon.)


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